


The Perils of Dealing with Afterwards

by stickdonkeys



Series: The Perils of Dealing [2]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angel Wings, Angels are bad at feelings, Chloe Decker knows, Ella lopez knows, F/M, Family Drama, Fluff and Angst, Linda Martin Needs A Raise, Lucifer thinks Maze is a bad influence, Post-Season/Series 03, Post-kidnap issues, Relationship Negotiation, Therapy, Trixie Espinoza & Lucifer Morningstar Bonding, Trixie and maze are awesome, Trixie knows, feathers - Freeform, not season 4 compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:47:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 53,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23524861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stickdonkeys/pseuds/stickdonkeys
Summary: Chloe and Lucifer are home. Cain is dead. All that is left is to work out what it means to be together and get back to work, right? It turns out that is easier said than done. In the wake of their kidnapping, the world seems a much more dangerous place than before and doubts begin to surface regarding their friends, each other and themselves. And is there a new threat on the horizon or is that paranoia speaking? Perhaps dealing with evil was easier than dealing with what comes afterwards.
Relationships: Chloe Decker & Trixie Espinoza & Lucifer Morningstar, Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, Mazikeen & Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Michael & Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)
Series: The Perils of Dealing [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1692859
Comments: 151
Kudos: 372





	1. The Devil Doesn't Uber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back folks! I hope you enjoy this second installment. For anyone new, you do probably have to go back and read the first fic "the perils of dealing with evil" for this to make 100% sense but you are welcome to try a blind read. That said, thanks for opening the story and I hope you enjoy

Eventually, Lucifer, Maze and Trixie grew tired of their debate on whether Maze's demon face or Lucifer's wings were more intimidating. Lucifer finally stating, "it is only because you do not fully comprehend what my wings mean, Offspring," before refusing to participate and leaving the child and the demon to exchange triumphant looks. Chloe had been right earlier in stating that their time spent in captivity had taken a toll on him. He was too weary to argue something so trivial with someone that did not have enough information to decide. No one with all the information would ever find a demon, even one of Maze's caliber, more intimidating than the Devil himself, erstwhile archangel and Lord of Hell. No, but it wasn't worth the argument so he would allow them to think that they had bested the Devil. For now. 

"Well," he said, standing and brushing his ruined, filthy trousers futilely, "I wish I could say that it was fun to have you mostly to myself for the week, Detective, but that was not my idea of a good time. Mostly, anyway," he added with a shrug smiling as he thought of the night they had spent together before it all went pear-shaped. "However, I have fulfilled my promise of returning you to your spawn if I could and will leave you to her. I'm ready to go home."

"What?" Chloe asked, wondering if this was just goodbye for the moment or the more final goodbye that it felt like. She knew it was silly, but it wouldn't be the first time he'd ran when he could. She didn't want him to run. They still had things they needed to talk about. They hadn't had time between their capture and subsequent rescue and all the people that had been surrounding them since. _Please don't run_ , _Lucifer,_ she thought, unable to voice it around the panic constricting her throat.

"I'm not running," he promised her, taking her hands in his, the white bandages on his wrists standing out against the black of his ruined suit jacket. "I need to go _home_. To the penthouse. I need a bath, a shave, clean clothes and a drink. Or ten. Maybe a smoke or two. I'm not running away this time." 

She looked into his brown eyes and saw no sign of deceit but felt compelled to ask, "do you promise?" 

"I swear," he agreed. She nodded, still not sure how she felt about him leaving, especially after what he had discovered about his dad and having broken a deal with Cain for her sake. Especially with his track record of disappearing when things got hard. But he gave his word that he wouldn't run and she trusted him to keep it.

"Then go home," she replied, knowing that he didn't need her permission but thinking that he might like it. "Take your bath, get your drink, change clothes. But you might think about keeping the beard. I kinda like it." 

He touched it thoughtfully before replying,"I'll have to see how it looks. But don't get your hopes up, darling. I'm rather partial to my usual level of scruff." That said he headed for the door and she called his name despite herself before swallowing her panic and reminding herself that she was safe in her own home. Cain was dead. Lucifer wouldn't disappear if he walked out the door and no one was currently trying to kill or maim either of them. He looked at her quizzically and she shook her head, refusing to ask him to stay. She'd already asked too much of him. Enough that if he was keeping track she would never crawl out from under her debt to him. She didn't think he was keeping track.

"You don't have keys," she said finally, his small smirk suggesting he knew what she refused to say, leaving her wondering just how many of her thoughts he was privy to. "And I don't know where my car is so I can't offer you a lift. Do you want me to call you a cab or an uber? I'd have to borrow a phone but …"

"The Devil doesn't _uber_ , Detective," Lucifer laughed. "Nor do I intend to take a cab. I have my own way home."

"You can't mean that you're going to… to fly?" She asked slowly. He looked at her with an expression that reminded her of a parent looking at a particularly stubborn child refusing to understand something that had been explained countless times in countless ways.

"They're not decorative," he reminded her. "And flying is much faster than waiting on a cab, uber or fighting LA traffic." 

"Ok," she replied, unable to come up with a reason he would need to stay longer other than that she wanted it. "Enjoy your bath. You will come back, won't you?" He nodded, seeming as reluctant to leave as she was to see him go. 

"Do you have food?" he asked suddenly. "We have been gone for a week and perishables are known to well, perish. And demons aren't known for their grocery shopping abilities." Maze flipped him the bird but didn't comment, recognizing it as a stall tactic rather than an actual commentary on her, admittedly questionable, shopping abilities. She didn't understand why Chloe seemed to insist on green food. Meat and liquor tasted better and would keep you going.

"We'll order in," Chloe offered, not wanting him to feel obligated to stay for their food consumption. 

"Where's your wallet?" He asked, his sly smirk suggesting that he already knew the answer. Which he did. He had worked with her long enough to know where her wallet would be during an arrest.

"In the lockbox of my car," she laughed.

"Which is?" Lucifer asked, an outright smile gracing his face as he realized he had her trapped. She had no phone, no car, no money and probably no food. 

"MIA," she agreed. "With my phone and yours. Why did you have three phones anyway, Lucifer?"

"Business, pleasure and personal," he responded as if it was the simplest answer in the world. Maze nodded, shrugging at Chloe's confused expression. 

"Which number did I have?" Chloe asked, wondering if he would answer.

"Personal," he replied, surprising her with the readiness of the answer. "The most exclusive category, I assure you."

"So, no phone, no money, no food. Tsk tsk, Detective, that won't do at all," he said, holding out his hand. "I guess you'll have to come with me. I have food, money and a phone back at the penthouse. And alcohol."

"I have Trixie," Chloe countered. "Maze will lend me her phone and some cash. She knows I'll pay her back, right?" Maze looked from Chloe to Lucifer and back before shaking her head and getting to her feet with a grunt and a grimace.

"I'm not getting involved in this," she said limping towards her room with Lucifer's feather. "You two figure it out and get a room with a lock when you do. Or not. I don't mind watching."

"I have Trixie, Lucifer," Chloe reminded him, ignoring Maze's very suggestive comment and thanking God that Lucifer hadn't told her they had already gotten a room, complete with a locked door and that someone had watched. Small mercys. 

"I can't just leave her," she continued, a blush creeping up her face at her last train of thought. "Especially not after we went missing. I told both her and Dan that I would stay with her and I will. I've missed her, Lucifer. I want to spend time with you but I _need_ to spend time with her."

"What if she comes with us?" Lucifer asked, turning towards Trixie. "What do you say, Spawn? Care for a ride on the wings of the Devil?"

"Yes!" She crowed coming towards him, a nervous ball of excited energy. Lucifer grinned at her, placing his hand on Trixie's shoulder and looking at Chloe as if to say 'any further objections?' When she shook her head with a laugh, his smile widened and he extended his right hand to her. 

"Is it safe?" Chloe asked, stepping forward to take his outstretched hand. 

"I believe so," he responded. "I wouldn't risk your life or hers if I didn't think it was. If falling is what you're worried about, I won't drop either of you. You have my word." She thought about it a moment before nodding and closing the space between them. 

"So, how do we do this?" she asked.

"Easily," he replied "come, Child." He directed Trixie to his left side trying to secure her before shaking his head and bending to lift her, wrapping her legs around his waist and placing his arm around her back. He bounced a little and was apparently satisfied with the result because he reached for Chloe. He positioned her arms around his neck and wrapped his right arm around her waist.

"Ready?" he asked waiting for both his passengers to nod before summoning his wings.

"Don't we need to be outside?" Chloe asked only for him to laugh. With a single wing beat they were out of Chloe's home and standing in the penthouse. He took a moment to stretch, luxuriating in the feeling of being able to fully extend his wings for the first time since Cain's men had shot and bound them approximately a week ago. With a contented sigh, he vanished them before setting down his burdens, both of whom were blinking in confusion. He was beginning to wonder if he'd been wrong about them being alright when Chloe spoke, a breathless whispy sound.

"Th-that wasn't flying, Lucifer," Chloe finally managed. "That was teleportation."

"Tomayto, tomato," he replied simply, moving to the bar to pour himself a drink. "It still happened because of my wings. And I _can_ actually fly, it just seems to cause a bit of a stir. Care for a drink?" She thought of turning him down before nodding. It wasn't like she had anywhere to go or anything to drive. Turning to Trixie, who hadn't moved since Lucifer teleported them, she was surprised to see her daughter practically boiling over with energy. 

"Monkey?" Chloe asked. It seemed to burst whatever dam had held back the flood of words. 

"Oh my God …. Well not God," she amended at Lucifer's unamused glance. "But that was so cool! Can we do it again? Please!"

"If you mean tonight, no," Lucifer replied handing Chloe a tequila sunrise and Trixie a tequillaless sunrise. "I have nowhere else I need to go and food can be brought to us with a phonecall. If you mean ever again, then I have no objection but you will have to discuss it with your mother." Trixie looked to her mother who mouthed 'we'll discuss it later' while Lucifer drank his drink in a single pull and poured another, taking the bottle with him and heading for his bedroom and the shower.

"Make yourselves at home," he called over his shoulder. "The tele has every streaming service known to man and the phone is by my desk. Order whatever sounds appetizing. Use my name and tell them to stop in at the bar on the way up. Patrick will pay them. Anything but pizza," he amended. "Maybe Chinese or Mexican or both. Yes both. You should order both."

"Lucifer, no Mexican food places deliver," Chloe reminded him. "And we have no keys unless you have a spare set and even if you do, I think your car is at the precinct."

"I own more than one car, Detective," Lucifer replied primly. "And as I said, use my name. You'd be surprised what places will do." She was left staring after him as he disappeared into his bedroom, the sound of running water following soon after.

"So food?" Chloe asked, pulling a stack of menus from behind the bar and perusing them with Trixie. Eventually selecting both a Chinese and Mexican restaurant, Chloe called in the order, shocked when Tio Tito's, who initially said that they didn't take call-in orders, immediately agreed to deliver at Lucifer's name. She hated that he'd been right and knew she was never going to live it down. But she couldn't bring herself to be too disappointed. Carne asada tacos did sound amazing.

* * *

Lucifer finished his shower about the same time the food arrived. She heard him bustling around in his closet over the sounds of Trixie squealing over the fact that their meal had come with complimentary queso and guacamole as she spread the food out on the bartop. Chloe blamed Dan and his family. What normal child liked guacamole? The movement in the closet had already stopped and that concerned her. She knew that Lucifer had no issue with being naked and she didn't particularly mind if he was but Trixie was there. _Please be presentable,_ she thought wondering if he would hear her.

"Detective," came the mock hurt reply from his bedroom, "I am always presentable. The presentation just depends on the audience. And, tonight, the penthouse is an all-ages affair." He came around the corner and she was pleased to see that he had opted to wear clothing, true it was a half buttoned dress shirt and a very soft looking pair of shorts, but it counted. She was also surprised to see that he actually had kept the beard and hadn't taken the time to control the curls in his hair. He looked comfortable. She suddenly realized that she hadn't seen him so relaxed in quite some time. Way more than just the last week. It had probably been months. Ever since she and Marcus had … she cut the thought off feeling remorse both for not believing him and for causing him stress. And horror at what she had almost done by marrying him, her mind recalling the feeling of her bones breaking under his fist and the humiliation Lucifer had saved her from when he broke the terrible deal she'd boxed them into. While she was more than grateful, she still couldn't believe he'd actually broken his word. 

"What?" he asked as her expression shifted from amused and contented to troubled. "Is this not all-ages presentable? I even kept the beard. I trimmed it up some and probably, no _definitely_ , won't keep it long-term but--"

"You're fine, Lucifer," she assured him, trying to shake off the ghosts of memories. "What you're wearing is perfect, if a little odd between the long sleeves and the shorts."

"I don't have any other shirts," he replied with a tone that she couldn't quite place. "And I figured that you would frown on my wearing naught but my robe and my shorts with your offspring here."

"It's your home, Lucifer," Chloe reminded him. "You should be comfortable. And a _tied_ robe is child friendly. _If_ you have shorts under it." He nodded stepping back into his closet and coming back out with a black silk robe tied at the waist. Surprisingly, though she hadn't thought it possible, he looked even more at ease than he had.

"Ah, Tio Tito's," he said seeing the takeout sack. "I hope you ordered ... yes! Carne asada tacos. These things are delightful." He grabbed one biting into it with a moan that made Chloe blush remembering the other actions that had elicited that sound. 

"Ah, more delicious than I remembered," he muttered, taking the time to dab juice from his beard before devouring another in two bites. 

"Probably because you haven't eaten in a week," Chloe said taking a bite of General Tso's chicken, before reaching for one of the tacos he was raving about. He slid the plate towards her and shrugged.

"I've told you, eating is optional for me," he said, before leaning into her space and snagging an egg roll from the plate beside her.

"You don't have to eat?" Trixie asked sitting beside her mother eating some chips, guacamole and sesame chicken. Lucifer shook his head. 

"Or drink," he added. "I have all the fuel I will ever need built in. Doesn't mean I don't enjoy it though. May I have a bite of that, Detective?"

"Only if you go back to calling me Chloe," she countered holding her fork out with a piece of chicken on it practically dripping sauce. He said nothing but his eyes didn't leave hers as he leaned forward and closed his mouth around the chicken deftly pulling it from the fork without pulling the fork itself. He hummed in satisfaction.

"Did you know, _Chloe_ , that is one of my favorite foods?" he asked grabbing her wrist to spear another piece on her fork and feed himself.

"Mine too," she replied, turning the fork at the last second and biting the chicken herself. Grinning at him as if to say 'what are you going to do about that?' 

"A trade," he offered. "An enchilada for some of your chicken."

"I'll take you up on the enchilada but here," she pulled another to-go container from the white takeout sack and handed it to him. "I ordered two. I did know it was your favorite. You, um, mentioned it during a stakeout. I also knew this was your favorite takeout restaurant." She couldn't hide her blush at the admission that she had chosen based on his preferences. Especially when he looked at her like she was something precious. They lapsed into comfortable conversation as they finished off all of the seemingly excessive amount of food she had ordered. 


	2. Shower Thoughts and Misunderstandings

It turned out that Lucifer really did have every streaming service known to man. After they finished eating, Trixie moved towards the couch and Lucifer showed her how to work the remote. Chloe was too full to bother with moving, the lack of food during the last forty-eight hours of their captivity causing her to overindulge. As she leaned against the bar watching her daughter interact with the Devil, she didn't care what movie they landed on. All she wanted was a bath and a nap in that order. She let out a groan as she realised that in her rare show of spontaneity she hadn't thought to pack an overnight bag. She had no clothes, no toiletries and no way to go get them. Lucifer's attention immediately shot to her.

"Chloe? Are you … is everything alright?" he was at her side faster than should have been possible, scanning her visibly for injury, hands hovering just above her, almost as if he was afraid to touch her.

"I just . . . I _really_ want a shower," she replied. At his confused expression she elaborated. "I don't have a change of clothes or toiletries or anything. And … do you have a guest bathroom? Maybe a washing machine. Probably not. I guess I can just rinse these out again and wear a towel until they dry."

"You'll do nothing of the sort," he countered, looking offended at the notion. "In fact, I may have to use those clothes. I would like to show young Beatrice my favorite trick. I'll lend you something else to wear. And you don't have to use the guest shower. You may use mine, Chloe. If you desire, that is. I promise, while the guest shower is better than most, mine is downright _sinful_." So was his tone and the look he leveled at her. She idly found herself wondering just how much sin had been committed in that shower and if he would be willing to commit a bit more before that line of thought cut off at a sound of delight from her daughter as she examined the kids section.

"I couldn't impose," she said looking away from his eyes and the knowing look he was giving her. "I'll just use the guest shower and" he cut her off, taking her by the wrist, his grip gentle but persistent. She rolled her eyes and allowed him to pull her along as he kept talking.

"Nonsense, darling. It is not an imposition if I offer and I'm afraid I am actually going to have to insist this time," he replied simply as he led her through his closet that was larger than her bedroom and into his bathroom. "Now, be a dear and strip off and get in the shower. I will bring you a change of clothes and take care of yours. Unless you want me to show you how it works? It does have a few extra knobs that if turned appropriately can put water in _all_ the right places." The last was said with such a suggestive purr that she had now doubt what his help would entail.

"I think I can figure it out," she replied looking at the various knobs with a laugh. "Help Trixie pick a movie. PG or less, Lucifer."

"Killjoy," he muttered placing the shirt he'd put on after his bath and a clean pair of shorts on the vanity. As he headed back to the main room she wondered if he'd meant the solo shower, the movie restrictions or both.

As she stepped into the spray of the twin heads, she realized that he had been right. His shower was far superior to any she had ever been in. As the warm water caressed her skin from all directions, she wept. The relief of being _home_ , of them both being alive, of Pierce, Cain, being dead where he couldn't get off on a technicality or retaliate, it was too much. On the tail end of relief came the realization that it all could have ended so differently. 

Especially earlier that day. What had she been thinking?! Challenging Marcus, whose bicep was bigger than her thigh, to a fight. Not her smartest decision. She'd known that she couldn't win but hadn't counted on him actually wanting to hurt her. She'd figured he would pin her, call it a day and claim his prize in private. He could have killed her. Probably would have if his deal with Lucifer wasn't in place. That hadn't been a calculated risk at all. It had been desperation. She couldn't bring herself to see Lucifer hurt again, even knowing that he was invulnerable to most of their weapons. Instead she had forced him to sacrifice the one principle he claimed he had. He'd broken a deal. For her. Because she couldn't live with the terms she had set. True, it was a deal between her and Marcus, but Lucifer had agreed to abide by her terms. And then broken his word. For her.

She knew they needed to talk about it, but all she could do was stand under the warm water and weep, promising herself that she would get out when it started to go cold. Eventually she decided that Lucifer must have unlimited hot water. Even though she'd been in the shower longer than should be allowed, the water was the same perfect temperature it had been. She knew she needed to get out, put a smile on her face, see her daughter but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She sank to the floor, letting the warm water flow over her skin crushed under the weight of what had happened that week. Her roommate was an actual demon from hell. Lucifer was the actual, biblical Devil. Her ex-fiance and boss was a criminal mastermind and the first murder. He'd almost killed her more than once and would have done so if it wasn't for bulletproof vests and Lucifer. The Devil. The actual Devil. No, she couldn't bring herself to get out. Not yet. She needed a few more minutes.

* * *

Lucifer was beginning to grow impatient. He had known women that took hours to get ready, but the Detective, _Chloe_ , didn't strike him as the type. He had already made the child popcorn, despite there being no way she could still be hungry and had watched the banal movie she had chosen. Which, even he had to admit, had creatively snuck in a few dirty jokes. And more than an hour had elapsed and he could still hear the water running. As the credits on the first movie rolled he shook his head, deciding that Chloe had had enough privacy.

"Select another, Child," he instructed. "I'm going to see what's keeping your mother." 

"Anything I want?" she asked, eagerly. He wondered if she was trying to lead him into a trap but saw little harm in it either way.

"Anything on this platform," he clarified, doubtful that she would choose an adult film but unwilling to risk her mother's wrath if she did. 

"Deal," she grinned.

"You really do need to find a different word, Urchin," he said, offering her a small smile of his own and feeling an odd fondness for this small human who had no fear of him. "It is hardly proper to go around making deals with the devil."

"Does what we call it change what I'm doing?" she asked, her raised eyebrow, a gesture very reminiscent of Mazikeen, suggesting she knew that it did not. He hadn't known that human children were so shrewd. 

"You're too smart by half," he replied. "It is still the same thing, but appearances do matter, my dear Spawn. And even in so trivial a matter, it is still a deal with the Devil. Don't offer me one if you do not intend to keep your end, are we clear on this matter?"

"Maze warned me," she said with a chipperness that made him suspect that she truly did not understand the implications of a deal with him. "She told me you always collect and you don't break promises. And that attempting to cheat you would be a bad idea." He hummed in response before sighing.

"Let's just keep deals between you and I to a minimum, yes?"

"Are you saying we should make a deal to limit deals? How does that make sense?" She smirked, realizing she had trapped him in his own logic. He did laugh at that. 

"You have been spending _entirely_ too much with Mazikeen," he said when he could trust his voice. "I will be keeping my eye on you, Beatrice."

"Go check on Mom," she said, unintimidated by his promise. He sighed, wondering just what Mazikeen had told her that she was so comfortable ordering the Devil around his own home, even if what she was instructing _was_ something he desired. He made a mental note to have words with the demon about what she said to Chloe's offspring and went to find Chloe. 

Upon entry to the bathroom, it was clear that she was still in the shower. The towel he'd set aside for her was still dry and untouched as were the clothes. The water was still running and through the glass doors he could just see her silhouette sitting in the floor. 

"Chloe?" He called softly, reaching for the handle of the door to the shower and pausing before he opened it. "Are you alright?" 

"I'm fine," came the sob masquerading as a reply.

"You're lying, darling," he replied. "And I don't need to be the Devil to know it this time. Are you hurt? Did you fall?"

"I didn't fall," she muttered, the sound miserable. "I sat here on purpose." He nodded. 

"So do you plan to spend all night in there?" he asked, recognizing wallowing for what it was, though if asked he would deny that he ever wallowed. "The hot water will never run out of that's what you're waiting for. Industrial tankless water heater." 

"It's just too much, Lucifer," came the whispered reply, barely audible over the running water. "The kidnapping. Marcus. Cain. Whoever the hell he was. What they did to you. To me. What they would have done to me if you hadn't broken the deal I couldn't." There was a pause as though she stopped to think about what she was going to say next before she whispered, "The truth about _you._ "

"Me," he replied, swallowing heavily, feeling sorrow almost close his throat at the thought that she was in the shower weeping because she knew the truth. His heart ached as he realized that she wasn't wallowing, she was hiding. From him. In his own home. With that realization anger took the place of sorrow. And he embraced it. Anger was easier. It hurt less. Anger and resentment were his most loyal bedfellows, afterall. Natural response when everyone he knew _always_ eventually betrayed him. No matter what he gave them or what he sacrificed of himself it was never enough. Not even for her. He could feel his eyes burning but couldn't bring himself to care, she already feared him, he might as well seal the deal and let her see what there was to fear.

"I'm sorry, _Chloe_ ," his tone saying the exact opposite, the venom in them carving their way up his throat making it burn. "I'm sorry that me being _me_ is too much for you to handle. It didn't seem like it was too much when it saved your life." He made a bitter sound of disgust before continuing, "This was a mistake. I'll just go call you a cab, shall I. Let you go home, think about it. You'll promise to call but you won't. And I'll pretend to get it. To pretend that it doesn't _hurt_ that you think just like everyone else in the bloody world! Oh, he's the big bad scary Devil, here to steal our souls. Call the FBI. Call a _priest_ . Protect the children! Don't let him _make_ you commit evil. Put him in a cage. Find his weakness and make him docile to keep him contained. I'm afraid they'll have to find a different one next time, won't they, _Detective_. Because clearly--" he pulled the door open prepared to toss her a towel and escort her out but the words died in his throat, his eyes guttering back to brown at the sight of her. 

She was sitting in a miserable heap, knees to her chest and arms around them. Her hair hung around her in sodden strings that she hadn't bothered to brush away from her face, but it was her eyes, tormented pools of blue begging him to help quiet the storm torturing her mind that broke him. There was no hate or fear there only trust and certainty that he could help. In the face of her trust he felt his anger fade, replaced by shame at his misunderstanding of her emotions.

"Oh, love," he muttered, turning off the water and stepping into the shower. He extended his hand slowly and when she reached for him he knelt next to her and pulled her against his chest. She clung to him with a whimper that tore at his heart. He shushed her petting her hair as she wept, apologies, pleas, and explanations falling from her lips. What hurt the most was her begging him not to make her leave. It resonated in his chest as he recalled wishing he could have brought himself to beg not to be thrown from his home by his twin.

"Hush, love," he whispered. "I don't need your apologies. I should have allowed you to explain. I shouldn't have lashed out at you, darling. I have no excuse, I know you better than that it's just … well, there have been more rejections than acceptances in my past." With the water off, she was beginning to shiver. He looked towards the towel before rejecting the idea as it would require him to release her or move her. With a sigh, hoping it was the right decision, he summoned his wings, wrapping them around her for warmth. He was dismayed when her tears, which had been slowing returned. 

"I'm sorry," he said, shifting to remove his wings from around her. "I should have realized that they would be too much right now. You already told me the fact that I was telling the truth is part of the problem. It is just that you've been handling it all so well. Most people can't function for quite some time after learning about divinity. And you just took it in stride," He stopped talking at her head shaking against his collarbone.

"Leave them. Please?" she said softly, her tone guilty as though she shouldn't be asking for it. He nodded, bringing them more tightly back against her, hugging her with both his arms and his wings. 

"I don't deserve this," she sobbed, fisting his robe. "You. I don't deserve you." His heart broke for them both as she said aloud what he'd always known; she deserved better than him. Before he could descend too deeply into despair she continued talking, changing the tone entirely.

"What have I done to deserve a friend like you?" she asked, looking up at him. He looked away but she continued, "it seems like all I do is hurt you. Tonight I've hurt your feelings. And this, this was for me," her finger burrowed through his healing feathers to the healed flesh of his wing where a bullet had entered. 

"And this," her finger traced another healed bullet hole. "You also allowed this for me," she touched the skin at the edge of one of the grommets Cain had embedded in his wings. "You allowed them to do so much to you for my sake. You even broke a deal for me. I _know_ what that means to you. What did I do to deserve such loyalty?" Thoughts as sappy as 'you loved me' and 'you accepted me' crossed his mind before he centered on a truth so profound that it had to be voiced.

"You cared," he said simply, pulling back to smile at her, a soft thing full of words he wasn't ready to say. "From the first time I met you, you cared whether I lived or died. I've irritated you, defied you, gotten you in trouble, ran away from you and married another but still, you came back. You are the first relationship I have had in, well, probably ever that wasn't contingent on what I could provide to you. You never asked me for extravagant favors or tried to use my influence. Yes, my abilities have been useful to you at work, but I offered them freely. You didn't ask it of me. I do what I do for the precinct because _I_ want to do so. To you, I'm not a source of favors or meaningless, mindblowing sex. I'm just Lucifer. I would do anything, _endure_ anything for you, Chloe. You've more than earned my loyalty." She glanced away, uncomfortable under his praise when it seemed to her that she'd done quite a bit of taking lately. She was on the verge of telling him he was wrong when he started speaking again.

"Did you know that when Linda pressed for and learned the truth about me, when her brain unmelted and she could bring herself to speak to me, the first thing she did was ask me about hell," he said softly, leaning his cheek on her damp head. "A trained therapist and she never even asked how I felt after I opened up to her and she avoided me for weeks. It hurt. Knowing that I had broken her. True, she had _demanded_ proof, and I knew it was the likely outcome ... but the _rejection_ and subsequent acceptance only as a source of divine knowledge still hurt. She still stumbles over "the devil stuff". I can see that I bother her when I'm truly honest about my past and opinions. It _bothers_ her that I'm the Devil and that my very existence means Hell is real. Even though she's _more_ than happy to _shag_ my _angel_ brother."

"I am being a tad unfair again," he said shaking his head sadly. "It is easier to love an angel fallen from grace to mortality than the Devil. Far less cultural hangups. Also, I know that both the situation and the method of the revelation were different, her seeing my missing face and you my wings. But you were worried about _me_ . Not what hell is like or who is there. You still haven't asked. It was … refreshing. And you didn't run from me for even a second. You ran _towards_ me. Defended me even."

"I thought you were dying," she muttered, clinging to his shoulders hard enough it would have left bruises a week ago. "I thought that you'd sacrificed yourself for me."

"You did the same for me," he replied. "You repeatedly put yourself between Cain and myself. You were even shot for your troubles, vest notwithstanding. I thought you were dying, too, you know. When you fell … I knew … I _knew_ that you were going to die and I couldn't follow you where you were going. I was so terrified of losing you that I forgot that my feathers could save your life."

"You were going to do it again, too," he said, irritation and wonder warring for dominance in his tone. "Tell me, did you think you could win? When you challenged him, were you actually hoping to win?" She shook her head with a small hum and his heart clinched painfully. She had truly been willing to give herself not just for his life but for his comfort. He chuckled sadly pressing a kiss to her head. 

"And you have to ask me what you have done to deserve my devotion," he breathed, tightening his hold on the sweet, oblivious woman. "You asked why I would sacrifice my pride and break a deal for you but allow me to ask you this; you were willing to allow them to beat and violate you to allow me freedom to move about our prison, what value has my pride in the face of such an act of love?"

"I would have gone through with it, you know," she said. "To keep you untied I would have let him have me. I wasn't expecting you to save me. I planned to pay my debt."

"That's why I couldn't let you," he answered smiling at her softly. "Come now, darling. Dry yourself, splash some cool water on your face. You're all puffy. Then get dressed and come see that cunning creature that you call a daughter. If she's not careful I'll have her soul in a fortnight." She laughed, a half-hearted sound, but a laugh nonetheless. He considered it a victory.

As they settled in on his couch to watch Beatrice's second movie, his detective leaning against him with her head on his chest and her offspring sprawled across her, he decided that he could grow accustomed to all-ages evenings in his home. Though, next time, he was picking the movie.


	3. Questions, Nightmares and Hellloops

"I _do_ have a question," Chloe said suddenly, breaking the companionable silence they had fallen into since Trixie fell asleep on the couch and Lucifer moved her to the guest bed. Lucifer had returned, elated at the fact that he could change the movie to something _not_ animated but neither of them was really watching it. Instead they were enjoying just _being;_ sitting on his couch together relishing their first momentof peace alone in a week. He had poured himself a drink bringing the bottle before he resumed his position as her pillow. He hadn't protested when her hand snaked it's way under the fabric of his damp robe and began petting his bare chest.

"It's something that's been bothering me ever since I realized that you're not just delusional," she explained, with an apologetic half smile.

"Ask," he answered, stroking along her arm, tracing abstract patterns with his fingers. He was pleased that she was still allowing such intimate contact now that they were free. Especially after her breakdown in his bathroom. She kept assuring him that it wasn't really him she was upset about but he couldn't quite quash the feeling that a y moment she would come to her senses, grab her daughter, and run. And, while he had hoped to avoid the usual questions, he supposed that after all they'd been through she was owed a few answers to her more pressing metaphysical questions. Though her deciding to ask made him worry that she was moments away from the screaming and running stage. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or discomfited when she spoke.

"When did I start making you vulnerable and why did it stop? I've been thinking about it and even though I had convinced myself that it was bloodloss hallucination at the time, you _were_ shot on our first case, weren't you?" He nodded. "And they bounced off. So what changed?" He sighed. It would have been easier if she _had_ asked him about hell. For a moment he considered not answering, changing the subject but their talk in the shower had opened a door he was reluctant to close. It was nice to be able to not only tell the truth but be honest with her. With another sigh he was decided.

"My feelings," Lucifer replied, watching her and gauging her reaction. "Amenadiel and I have a theory; where humans have actual freewill, celestials have a kind of … self-actualization. For example, I lost my ability to create fire when I felt guilty for my prank overthrowing an empire and causing needless death. When Amenadiel gave into temptation and felt he was unworthy of divinity, he lost it. 

"When I realized that you actually cared for me and began to care for you, letting you in and began to _feel_ vulnerable, I _became_ vulnerable," he continued. "Though I blamed my father at the time, I'm beginning to think that he had nothing to do with it and that I regained my wings and lost my Devil face because I stopped seeing myself as the Devil and started seeing me as Lucifer. As you saw me. And I became invulnerable again when you accepted me, as I am knowing the actions I am most ashamed of and allowed me to feel … well…"

"Complete?" She offered, grinning at how corny it sounded.

"Something like that," he agreed with a smirk. "Do you have any more questions or can I drink my scotch in peace?" 

"Have you always been able to hear my thoughts?" Chloe asked, petting his bare pectoral with a fingertip. She chose to ignore his last question since the twinkling in his eyes made it clear it was a joke.

"Prayers, and no," Lucifer replied, humming contentedly as she massaged away a knot of muscle she found. "I only started hearing those after I was … after Cain…"

"After you sacrificed your wings for my life?" She supplied. He snorted.

"It was hardly a sacrifice since I still have them," he countered, before his expression became unbearably tender. "The first one I heard since the Fall was … was you begging me not to die. I wasn't going to, you know?"

"You keep saying that like I should have but I really didn't," she whispered, her eyes taking on a haunted edge. "You were so still and you wouldn't respond and there had been so many bullets and there was so much blood. I thought you were dying."

"I didn't," he reminded her, petting her face. "And you didn't but Cain did. We survived and we're home and he's gone and everything can go back to normal tomorrow."

"Except now you can't be hurt and can hear my thoughts," she muttered, somewhat bitterly. It wasn't that she didn't want to share but she did want to have a vote in _what_ she shared.

"Only the ones that _you_ direct at me," he assured her. She nodded, appeased. She was quite sure that she didn't want him hearing _all_ of them. And a one way direct line to his mind might be useful. She wondered if he only got words or if he got images and sounds too. Maybe she could even make him blush. If that was something she was still allowed to do. They would have to clarify that. 

"What about us?" she asked, a hint of guilt in the words. "I know you let me and Trixie stay tonight because I basically clung to you and wouldn't let you leave until you asked, but it seemed like you didn't want to leave either. Tomorrow do _we_ go back to normal too? Will we just be Detective Decker and Lucifer Morningstar, consultant to the LAPD, owner of Lux, ex-king of hell and notorious playboy? Partners at work and just friends everywhere else? "

"Is that what you desire?" he asked fighting to keep his face and tone neutral while his heart broke at the idea. He would try if she wanted it because some of her was better than none of her but he would hate losing what she had granted him: her trust and permission to touch her and care for her when he wished.

"No," she said, pulling away to lock her blue eyes on his. "I like the new normal on that. We've teetered on this edge before and one of us always pulled back, but now that we've jumped, I don't see how we can climb back. And I don't really want to try. But my vote isn't the only one that counts. What do _you_ desire, Lucifer?" _That_ _you never leave me_ , he wanted to reply but decided on something less pathetic.

"I like that new normal as well," he said, stroking her cheek and reveling in the smooth unmarred skin, relievedwhen she closed her eyes and leaned into the touch. "I don't want to go back to how things were. This is better. And I wasn't going to hold you to it as an _official_ date but since you are willing to continue what we have started, when can we have our replacement date?" 

"Soon," she promised, smiling at him. "Just let me get Trixie used to the idea that we're not going to disappear again and I'm all yours. I'll let you treat me to the full 'Lucifer Morningstar experience.' Deal?" He had to laugh at that. She looked at him in confusion which only made him laugh all the harder.

"What?" She demanded as he descended into great paroxysms of laughter, tears in the corners of his eyes. It had been a bit corny but she hadn't thought it was that bad.

"Your child shares many of your traits," he said when he could. "Including an absolute lack of restraint when it comes to making deals with the Devil. Did you even think through what terms would come with the deal you're proposing?"

"You wait a bit and you get a date with me," she said with a shrug.

"And what do you get?" He asked softly, wondering if she was wanting an open IOU for her troubles. She could have it, of course. But somehow the idea of dealing in favors for sex or dates with her was distasteful.

"I wait a bit and I get a date with you," she replied. "An even trade and we both win." He smiled at her, more relieved than he would admit, before pressing his lips to hers in a kiss that while mostly chaste was pregnant with promise. She met his passion with her own. There was a brief second where Chloe thought that she had never thought that she'd be in a position where a deal with the Devil could be sealed with a kiss while Lucifer decided that it was the only way he would ever accept a deal with her again. Before she deepened the kiss and rational thought fled.

Before it could progress to more, a scream rent the air followed by a desperate cry of "Mommy!" Chloe was on her feet in an instant, headed towards the guest rooms but Lucifer was faster. Between his longer legs and unnatural speed, he was down the hall before Chloe was across the room. Chloe took it as a good sign when she heard soft voices rather than crashes as she neared the room.

"I'm sorry," Trixie was saying. "I woke up alone and didn't know where I was or where you or Mommy were and you guys were just gone. I just got you back and I was worried that you were actually gone again or I was and … and I was scared. I-I'm sorry."

"You needn't apologize for being frightened, Child," Lucifer said, his tone so gentle Chloe had no difficulty believing that he was once an angel. "I was afraid more than once that I was going to lose your mother. And she feared for me. She feared that she would never get to see you again. Fear is natural, not something requiring an apology."

" _You_ were afraid?" Trixie asked, shocked. "But you're the Devil. Maze says--"

"Don't believe everything Mazikeen tells you," Lucifer said seriously. "She's a demon. While she will never harm you if she wishes to continue to live, she _can_ lie to you. I however will not. If you wish to know something about me, I _am_ a bit of an expert on the subject. Feel free to ask. I do not promise you an answer, but if you get one it will be the truth." Chloe peeked around the doorway seeing Lucifer kneeling beside the bed, Trixie curled up facing him, holding his left hand like an anchor while his right hovered awkwardly over her, as if unsure if he should pet her or not. As she watched, he decided on petting her, his fingers stroking her hair. 

"Can I ask you a question that no one else will answer for me?" she asked, studying his face.

"I do not promise an answer," he reminded her. 

She nodded before saying, "the people who hurt you and Mommy, they can't do it again, can they? They won't take you guys again?"

"No," he replied, fighting to keep control of his eyes at the thought that even from beyond the grave Cain was tormenting people. "They cannot harm anyone anymore. They have gone where neither you nor your mother will ever see them again."

"Prison?" she asked innocently. 

"Hell," Lucifer corrected before Chloe could stop him. "Trapped by their guilt for all eternity." She was surprised when Trixie nodded, taking the revelation in stride. 

"Good," she whispered, closing her eyes and burrowing back into the pillow. "Lucifer, do only bad people go to hell?" He froze, his face taking in a haunted expression, before he modulated it. When he spoke, his tone was the flat, falsely bright one Chloe was beginning to recognize as a mask.

"That is a question for another time, Child," he said before patting her head awkwardly, retrieving his hand from her grasp and rising to his feet. "Sleep well, Beatrice. No harm will come to you or your mother in my home. You have my word."

"Thanks," she murmured, half-asleep. "G'night, Lucifer." 

"Good night, Child," he replied, turning to leave, the expression Chloe had thought he reserved for her on his face. She couldn't fight back her grin at the idea of the "big bad Devil" soothing away a child's nightmares. He shook his head, rolling his eyes at her expression and walking past her towards the living room. He headed to the bar pouring himself another glass of some amber liquid before sitting at the piano, pressing the damper pedal and playing a melancholy tune she didn't instantly recognize. 

"You okay?" Chloe asked, sitting beside him near enough to feel the heat coming off of him but not quite touching him, allowing him space if he wanted it. He scooted closer to her, bringing his body flush with hers, and sighed in response which she took to be a no.

"She likes you, you know," she said. "Always asks me how you're doing. Wonders who's taking care of you if I say you're unwell. I guess that's me, now, isn't it?" He glanced at her but said nothing.

"Why did her question bother you?" She asked. "It was going well until she asked about hell. Do you hate it there that much?" He shook his head.

"I hate the answer," he said softly, the music continuing without pause but growing louder and harsher despite the damper. "It is not goodness or evil doing that decide the fate of humans. There is no great balance in the sky weighing your actions and giving you what you've _earned_. No Saint Peter and a book of deeds. Just freewill. Choice without all the information."

"You told Pierce's people it was guilt," she said, slowly "And he said we choose where we go. Why would anyone choose hell?" There was a pause and she wondered if he would answer.

"If they feel guilty and deserving of punishment, they go to hell," he said bitterly, the tune growing angry rather than the previous melancholic tone. "Good people, bad people, it is the feeling of guilt not their life choices that damn a person. Another flaw in the design. And once they're there, good, bad or indifferent it doesn't matter. The result is the same; each soul gets its own personal hellloop, overseen by demons and managed by yours truly. Eternal torment regardless of the infraction that damned them. Punishment for guilt, deserved or not." 

Chloe was silent. No wonder he hated hell so much. From what she had seen, he enjoyed punishing those who deserved it, not the innocent. And guilt was all it took to condemn a person. She thought of all the guilt-ridden victims she had met and realized that if they had died they likely would have gone to Hell. To be trapped for eternity in a--

"What's a hellloop?" she asked, unable to stop the words before they were out of her mouth. His fingers faltered on the keys, a clearly sour note ringing out before he recovered and the music resumed, with a slight pause in the melody as he took a drink. She was beginning to think he wouldn't answer again he spoke.

"A small room behind a door," he said. "Most have no locks because most people can't even look for a way out. In that room, your worst regret, the thing for which you feel the most guilt, is played out in a never ending loop that you are powerless to stop."

"The man who tried to poison you," Lucifer said, "his was saving his thesis instead of the boy while the car exploded over and over and people called him a murderer. Mine … mine was stabbing Uriel. In this room, by this piano while he taunted me." The music faltered only to resume, a different tune that she almost recognized but couldn't place.

"Theoretically, if you can work through your guilt you can leave and go to heaven," he said, turning to look at her. "No one ever has."

"I don't know what mine would be," she said, wondering what she felt the most guilty about in her life, a brief flash of picking bullets from Lucifer's wings flashing across her mind before his hands were grabbing her arms, a bit too tightly.

"Don't try to figure it out," he snapped, his voice holding that edge of power that caused her skin to rise in goosebumps. "I'm sorry," he said releasing her and resting his hands on the keys, not pressing them, looking at his fingers. He seemed defeated and unbearably sad.

"I'm sorry. _Please_ don't think too hard about what you most regret," he said, refusing to look at her. "I have an idea what it might be and would hate to be part of your eternal torture. You don't instantly know what it would be because you don't _deserve_ a hellloop. You have never done anything that weighs so heavily on your soul that you _crave_ punishment to atone. And you need to keep it that way. If you think too long or too hard about what your hellloop might be, the guilt of whatever it you might regret will consume you. I may be the retired king of hell, but if you were to go there, I _cannot_ save you. You would be treated just like every soul there and it would kill me to watch you suffer for eternity." His words at the end were stilted, as though his brain had stuttered at the mere idea.

She threaded her fingers through his and leaned her head on his shoulder but said nothing. He never made promises he couldn't keep and she felt she owed him the same courtesy. She couldn't guarantee that she would never do anything that would eat at her soul, though she would try to avoid it for both of their sakes. Reliving her worst moment for all eternity didn't sound appealing. After a moment, she released his hand, sitting up and smiling at him before packing out the first few notes of 'Heart and Soul' his smile didn't quite reach his eyes as he joined her. 

"I'm going to have to teach you a different song," he said into her ear, his warm breath ghosting across her neck. "Bloody, chipper thing." She laughed softly. He might be complaining but she could see the shadow of hell leaving him and his smile becoming more genuine. And if it took annoying him with cheerful music to make him smile then she would do it all night.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those of you that are curious what Lucifer may have been playing, there are a couple of piano covers of Five Finger Death Punch songs that seemed particularly salient for this. The first song was a cover of Wrong Side of Heaven https://youtu.be/j5A0vwermQc with the original found at this link https://youtu.be/2Ay1V9uXI7c for any unfamilar with the song, which I feel fits well both the emotion and the character in general. 
> 
> The second was a cover of Remember Everything found here https://youtu.be/gORfb8EMsWc with the original here https://youtu.be/bIMkk3FUFXg


	4. Devil's Food for Breakfast

Despite her thoughts that she could keep up with him if it meant seeing him smile, eventually she had to sleep. They had moved back to the couch when he grew bored with playing. She tried to stay involved in the movie he had picked, but she could feel her eyelids drooping, each blink becoming longer until …

"Not here," he said, petting her face to wake her. "My … whatever it is you are to me, does not sleep on the couch. You may either share with your child or me. If neither of those options pleases, there are other guest bedrooms but you will not sleep on my couch."

"Your bed works," she muttered sleepily, making no move to get up off the couch. Her eyes shot open as the world shifted under her. It was a mark of how worn out she was that it took his chuckle to realize that he had lifted her and was carrying her as easily as he'd carried Trixie. He laid her in the bed and pulled the covers over her, turning to go back to the main room. 

"Stay?" Chloe asked, a request he was free to deny. Even if she knew she wasn't playing fair. He would never deny her anything. Not if it was something he could provide.

He came back to his bed before shucking his robe, folding it and placing it on the bedside table and climbing in beside her. He laid near her but hesitated to touch her, his hand hovering over her as it had hovered over her daughter, almost as if unsure he was allowed to complete the action. With a contented sigh she closed the distance wrapping her arm around his waist and pressing a kiss to his chest before resting her head there listening to his very human-sounding heartbeat. His arm came to rest around her, tracing idle patterns on her back as he pressed a kiss to her hair. 

"Sleep, Love," he said softly. "You're safe. Nothing will harm you; you have my word." At his promise, tension she hadn't realized she had melted from her. With a hum she began to drift before a thought occurred to her.

_You haven't slept either_ , she thought, thinking the words would come out of her mouth. His soft chuckle that she felt more than heard the only indication that they hadn't. 

"I don't think that is what Dad intended prayer to be used for, darling," Lucifer replied to her wordless statement. "But carry on doing it. It might mildly annoy Him. And I had a kip in Ms. Lopez's car. I don't need to sleep at the moment. But you do. Rest, love. I'll be alright." She hummed, content that on the matter he knew his own limitations and allowed the tempting pull of sleep to claim her. 

* * *

As she fuzzily came back to consciousness the next morning, it was to a warm weight covering over two-thirds of her body and the odd sensation of being watched. She instantly froze, analyzing the situation so that anyone watching wouldn't notice she was awake. Her eyes scanned what she could see, which admittedly wasn't much over Lucifer's shoulder and wing--the weight pinning her to the bed was just a wing. She filed away for later how the words "just a wing" had crossed her mind and continued her inventory. She wasn't entirely sure where she was, but it wasn't the bunker or the warehouse. And the pillow against her cheek wasn't hers and smelled faintly of Lucifer.

Risking a bit more motion, she turned her head slightly and recognized the architecture of Lucifer's bedroom. No wonder the pillow smelled like him, it was his. She was lucky that was all it smelled like. Crisis averted, she instead studied the sleeping Devil beside her. As she'd realized during their captivity, he looked younger asleep. It was even more true now that he wasn't in pain. A stray curl brushed his forehead and while she wanted to stroke it back into place, she knew that doing so would wake him. And, despite his words the night before, he clearly needed to sleep. But she knew that she needed to find a way to extract herself from his wing and his arm. And she knew that the wing, though lighter than it looked, was still heavy and attempting to lift it would wake him too.

Even fully awake and aware, the sensation of being watched hadn't gone away. As she wiggled a bit, both the arm and the wing tightened their hold as he muttered incoherently in that same lyrical language she'd heard during their captivity that she was dubbing Angel. Realizing that she was going to have to wake him to get out of the bed, she gave into the temptation to stroke his errant curl. He hummed, pressing into the touch and mumbling her name. She stroked his hair again and he blearily opened an eye flinching at the pale light passing through the gossamer curtains. 

"Bloody hell, what time is it?" His hand that wasn't around her waist coming up to shade his eyes. 

"I don't know," she laughed, shocked at just how human he was first thing in the morning. "I still don't have a phone. I really need to get one today. And from what I can see of your room, you don't have a clock."

"I don't," he groaned turning his head back into the pillow. "Ghastly useless things. I own my own business, Detective. On time is when I get there." She shrugged, supposing that was fair. She still couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched but he seemed perfectly at ease. So either she was crazy or he didn't consider their interloper a threat and either was as likely as the other.

"Lucifer, do you feel like …" she trailed off, mouthing the last words, "are we being watched?" He laughed. 

"Indeed, Detective," he said, clearly unbothered by the situation. "As i have been saying, unheeded I might add, your child has been spending entirely too much time with Mazikeen. She has even begun picking up some of her less desirable personality traits, such as silent voyeurism." He gestured with his chin towards the windows, allowing her to roll in his embrace to see her daughter sitting in his chair by the curtains staring at them. 

"Morning, Monkey," Chloe said, an awkward grin on her face. "How'd you sleep?" The grin was joined by a blush as Trixie looked at them, her brown eyes far too knowing for Chloe's taste. Maybe she was spending too much time with Maze. Or maybe Maze needed guidance on what it was appropriate to teach a child.

"Are you two naked?" she asked. "Maze warned me that you would probably be naked when I told her that you were both in here."

"No!" Chloe replied, her blush deepening at the same time Lucifer shrugged and said, "Partially." 

"Lucifer," she hissed, elbowing him for good measure before freezing at the realization that she had just elbowed the literal Devil who was more than capable of summoning fire and smiting her. Even while she knew that he would never do it, there was that primordial fear of provoking the wrath of the divine. 

"What, Detective?" he demanded, ignoring or not feeling her elbow. "The child asked if we are naked and as you know, I do not lie. As I am only wearing a pair of shorts, that qualifies as _partially_ naked. The upper part. And a portion of the lower as well, if you wish to be technical. You also have naked legs, as you too are wearing short. That is also partially naked. Neither of us is fully clothed, though all of the pertinent bits are. A shame, really. You are the first person to ever _sleep_ in my bed."

"Then why haven't you moved your wing?" Trixie asked simply. Lucifer blinked at her in confusion before looking down at his wing as though he hadn't realized it was out and retracting it. Chloe instantly missed the warmth and security it had provided and scooted further back against him seeking warmth. 

"Apologies," he said, sounding lost. "Bloody things apparently have a mind of their own. I didn't mean to…"

"It's alright," Chloe promised, laying on her back to shift her attention as needed and placing a hand on his chest. "It makes sense, really. How many times in the last week have I used your wings as a blanket?" 

"A few," he agreed, a ghost of a smile beginning to creep onto his lips, mostly hidden in the beard. Chloe decided then that she wasn't sure she liked it as it hit the small signs of his emotions she had learned to decipher.

"And we've never shared a bed when they weren't on display," she reasoned. He nodded but still seemed troubled. "It's fine, Lucifer. I don't mind the wings. As long as you don't use them to hog the bed." She smirked as the last statement garnered the response she was searching for and his pensive expression was replaced with a scandalized one. 

"I am ever a gracious bedfellow as you very well know," he said. "If I recall you quite enjoyed our last time. Numerous times and--"

"Lucifer, we have an audience," she snarled looking pointedly at Trixie who was watching everything with rapt attention. 

"Fine, but we're not done with this discussion, darling," he promised, grabbing his robe before shrugging it on a rising. "And there may need to be an object lesson and exam to complete it." His voice was pure sin and carnal promise by the end and she could feel heat coiling in her belly at the release it implied but shoved it down in favor of caring for her daughter. 

"What would you like to eat, baby?" she asked automatically before remembering that she wasn't at home and had no way of providing or procuring food. Did Lucifer even have a kitchen? And if so did it have food? She knew that he wouldn't mind lending her money for breakfast and would probably refuse to let her pay him back but she didn't want to ask. She'd already been needy enough. 

"Devil's food donuts," Trixie replied with a grin. "They're chocolate flavored."

"And appropriately named," Lucifer added. "When made well, it is truly the Devil's food. I approve. One of the few things attributed to me that I do. I know a bakery that makes absolutely _sinful_ devil's food. I will wager that they could be persuaded to make donuts."

"Not for breakfast," Chloe groaned, wondering just how she had been forced to wrangle two children, especially since one had been around since time immemorial. They both looked at her horrified as she continued, "breakfast should have nutritional value. Eggs, bacon, sausage. You know, _food."_

"Quite right," Lucifer agreed with an ease that made her suspicious. "Nutrition first. Devil's food for dessert." It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that breakfast didn't include dessert but instead she shook her head fondly at the realization that he had found a compromise that allowed both her and Trixie to have their desires met. And one day of dessert after breakfast wouldn't kill them. With a small nod she acquiesced. Her heart skipped a beat as he smiled, a full, radiant thing that pulled a matched smile from her.

"Excellent!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands. "Let's get dressed. I know just the place."

* * *

Lucifer had lent Chloe some clothes --"Laundered, of course, Darling"-- that had been left by one of his less adventurous bed mates. She had tried to insist on rinsing out and wearing her own but he had convinced Trixie that she wanted to see a Devil magic trick and Chloe had consented, his eager expression and Trixie's puppydog eyes combining to be irresistible. Especially since it _was_ a really cool trick and he'd already said that he wanted to burn the clothes and since she wasn't sure that even if he didn't she could ever wear them again without remembering what they had been through together, even in the very unlikely event that she could get out all the bloodstains. So it was that she stood there watching as her daughter played with multicolored cool fire conjured by the Devil himself as he cathartically burned the remains of the clothing they had been imprisoned in. If there had been a somewhat manic gleam in his eyes and a smile that showed a few too many teeth as he watched them burn, Chloe convinced herself that at least it was only clothes and not people he was emulating. 

When he and Trixie tired of pyromania, the promised breakfast was delivered in the form of a delicious little cafe and the pastry shop he had mentioned. Then came the inevitable trip to the precinct. While neither of them expected that they would be required, or allowed, to work, Chloe knew that she needed to check in. She also hoped that the precinct knew where her car was, and thereby her wallet. As it was, she had no bank card, no ID and no cash. While she knew that Lucifer would lend her either the money she needed or use his charms to cover her lack of documentation at the bank, she also knew that after a week away he would have business of his own to attend to. So she was surprised when he insisted on accompanying her to the precinct. 

At Trixie and Maze's assurance that it was ok, they swung by the apartment to drop her daughter off with the demon. There was a brief moment of panic as the door closed at the realization that Maze really was an actual demon. Chloe almost reached out to stop it before reminding herself that it was Maze, just like Lucifer was just Lucifer. Nothing had changed except now she knew. The movement, though stopped before it ever really started did not go unnoticed.

"Mazikeen will not harm your child, Chloe," Lucifer assured her. "She seems genuinely fond of her and if nothing else, she values her own skin. As I've told you before, I have made it quite clear to her that the consequences of her harming you or the child would be steep. Even knowing oblivion was her fate, she would _beg_ for me to allow her to die long before I did." She couldn't stop the shudder that went through her at the words, or the wave of nausea that accompanied it. It was one thing for him to threaten Pierce and his men, or even the FBI but this was Maze, their friend and his companion for millennia. 

"Would you really torture her?" She asked, wishing her voice was stronger and forcing herself to look at him. "Could you really kill her?" She could see the moment he detected her discomfort and could see the uncertainty in his gaze as he decided how to respond. She hoped he would brush it off with an 'of course not, Detective,' and offer her a laugh and his arm but he didn't. 

After far too long a moment he sighed, his gaze searching hers as he said, "It would depend on the infraction." Chloe nodded, that sick feeling not leaving her gut. "Shall we head to the precinct?" He asked when she gave no indication of moving. She nodded and moved robotically towards his car. She wondered if she was thankful or disappointed when his hand didn't come to settle in the small of her back. 


	5. Conversations in Cars

He could feel her displeasure like a tangible thing after their discussion of the potential consequences of Mazikeen disobeying his edict to leave her and her child unharmed. He was uncomfortable with her obvious disquiet with his response but could see no way to relieve it. Free-agent or not, Mazikeen was still a demon and he was still the Devil. She could not be allowed to think that his will could be ignored or circumvented. He knew that Mazikeen would have heard his statement and wanted her to have a reminder of the consequences even if a breach was unlikely. Despite her soulless nature, Mazikeen, once Hell's best torturer, had grown soft and fond of Chloe and her child. He doubted seriously that she would cause them harm but she couldn't be allowed to think she could. 

He wasn't sure why his reminding Mazikeen of his ban had upset Chloe. He had sworn to protect her and the child and he was fulfilling his promise. He would protect them from everyone, and that included Maze. She had known that. And yet, she was clearly upset. He could feel his own irritation rising at her clear disapproval of his methods. What did she want from him? He couldn't guarantee her safety without the occasional, potentially rash act and her disapproval of his efforts was galling. He took a deep breath through his nose and fought the urge to demand an explanation. He had been wrong, last night. Perhaps he was now as well. 

"You're upset," he said finally, breaking the uncomfortable silence in an attempt to ward off another miscommunication like the night before. She hummed and he could almost feel her planning to lie before nodding.

"A bit," she agreed with a sigh. He nodded, pleased that this seemed to be going better. Perhaps Linda was right and discussing things could be good. He tried to think what Linda would ask him next were he to admit he were upset.

"With me or because of me?" He asked, hoping her answer would be an eyeroll and an announcement that not every emotion she had revolved around him but it was another sigh, this one even weightier than the last.

"I'm not sure," she admitted after enough time had passed that he was fairly certain that she wasn't going to answer. "It bothers me that you could even imagine doing anything like that to Maze. She's your friend. You've known her forever. Probably hundreds or thousands of times the amount of time you've known me. If you could hurt her what … what could you do to … to me?" Her voice became nearly inaudible at the end but he heard. Pushing down the wave of nausea at the idea of ever harming her, he decided to start at the beginning.

"She's my  _ demon _ ," Lucifer corrected simply, "She is --was my subordinate. Our relationship is a fair bit more complex than that, but my word has always been law. She has been many things to me over the millennia, an ally, a lover, a general, an adversary but never a friend. Not in the way you mean. You have to  _ trust _ friends. I trust Mazikeen to choose whatever best benefits Mazikeen. She has many times despite the inconvenience it caused me. We've always used one another for mutual benefit; her for the power she received as my right-hand, me for her excellent skills and shrewdness. Since we came to Earth she has betrayed me more than once and defied me more often than that."

"But you didn't kill her," Chloe said as if it was the simplest and most obvious thing in the world. "And I don't think you tortured her. If I'm right about when it was, you ignored her. That's how friends react. They yell, they distance and then they make up or they don't."

"We're not friends," he repeated, a bit confused as he realized Chloe was right. He should have destroyed Mazikeen the first time she betrayed him but he hadn't. Why hadn't he?

"Do you even think you have any friends?" she demanded, wondering if he was going to think about it or insist that the Devil didn't do friends.

"Of course I do," he said, his tone scandalized. "I have Linda, maybe. Ms. Lopez might be a friend. Perhaps Amenadiel and I could now be considered friendly. Or not, he did just flutter off at the first opportunity without so much as a good bye. But I know that I have you. We're friends. Aren't we?" He could feel the moment her anger began to break, and felt a weight leave his chest as she smiled sadly.

"Yes, Lucifer," she said, her voice soft, gentle. "We are friends. But Maze is also my friend. You can't just threaten her on the off chance that she might consider hurting me. She's never tried, you know?"

"Actually she did," he countered. "Back when we first were working together. When I first became vulnerable, she considered killing you to protect me. I forbade it, of course. Rather forcefully. But she did break into your house to watch you and try to see what all the fuss was about." 

"That was the first time she betrayed me," he said, his voice taking on a hard edge that was a mix of anger and hurt. "She was supposed to be getting close to my brother as my spy but was actually sleeping with him and working as  _ his  _ spy against me to trick me back to Hell so that she could go back. That's why I wouldn't take her back, you know. When my wings came back and she wanted me to pop down to Hell and drop her off. Didn't matter to her if I stayed as long as I took her. If all she wanted was to go back to Hell with or without me, why didn't she ask Amenadiel to take her instead of trying to trick me?"

"Why don't you ask her?" Chloe insisted, as if it were that easy. 

"She won't tell me," he said simply. "Any reason she had she will chock up to 'feelings' and consider it a weakness. You don't  _ willingly _ divulge weaknesses in Hell. Especially not to people who are currently irate with you."

"You're irate with her?" Chloe asked, suspiciously. "You didn't seem irate yesterday. Telling jokes, offering feathers. If you were irate why didn't you just let her suffer?"

"I owed her," Lucifer said simply. "She told Ella and the FBI where we were. While we were on the verge of actual escape even without her help, she ensured that Cain ended up in Hell where he can't ever hurt anyone again. She prevented our suffering, so I eliminated hers."

"Why were you mad at her?" She asked softly, still shocked that he could take what had clearly been a kind act and spin it as a favor owed and repaid. Could he truly not see that he was good? Or that he was capable of doing things just because he wanted to, without a tit-for-tat agreement. 

"She worked with Cain," he said coldly. "She gave him the tools he needed to psychologically torture me." He laughed bitterly. "He really should have been born a demon. He would have been my best. That man was far too creative to be human."

"And yet, she lives," she said. She wondered why he would let her live for betraying him but threaten to kill her for harming Chloe or Trixie. A conversation with Maze floated from her memory. She was wondering why she should go back to Lucifer because she'd said that he would always choose Chloe over everyone else. With a sinking feeling in her gut, the memories of the last week assaulted her; him shielding them and being shot, allowing his wings to be riveted, being strung up, breaking a deal. It had all been at his expense for her sake. And despite claiming he was mad at her, he'd been gutted to learn that Maze was dead. He had already killed his brother for his mother, Maze and her. She realized suddenly that the question wasn't what would he do  _ to _ her but rather what wouldn't he do  _ for _ her? The thought was so flooring that she missed his answer.

"Yes, she does," he replied, his tone and expression unreadable. If she had demanded an answer, he wouldn't have been able to explain why after two frank betrayals Mazikeen still drew breath. But no matter his reason, he knew one thing; he and Mazikeen were not friends.

***

As they pulled into the lot at the precinct Chloe had to remind herself why it was necessary. While not as flashy as his Corvette, the mustang wasn't subtle and they drew attention before they were even out of the car. She could already hear the gossip flying. She'd been through it before and Pierce had been liked. Well enough. It was the second cop she had been responsible for the death of. She was going to be a pariah. Again.

"We don't have to do this today," Lucifer offered, brushing her hand with his fingertips. "It can wait."

"Waiting won't make it better," she sighed. "Almost makes me wish I hadn't let you heal me though. Bruises would help." 

He looked at her for a moment before saying, "Pass me your compact." 

"What?"

"You grabbed a bag at your house that I am certain contained cosmetics," he clarified. "Hand it to me." She sighed but did as he asked. He examined it critically before selecting products and, starting with her wrists began applying it to her skin. She watched as 'bruises' boomed across her skin, faint but apparent. 

"Close your eyes, Love," he said, his fingers stroking her cheekbone and the sensitive skin below her eyes. "Okay, done." He declared. She glanced in his rearview mirror and was surprised to see just how haggard she looked. Even given the muted, natural color palette she'd provided, he had made it look realistic. If she hadn't known, she'd even think she tried to cover bruises with makeup that just didn't quite do the job. 

"What about you?" She asked. He looked at her in mock horror. 

"The Devil does not wear unnecessary makeup, Darling," he quipped. 

"Your eyeliner begs to differ," she responded with a laugh. "I've seen you without it, remember? And I've seen you with no hair product. It looks nice, by the way. Your hair. You should wear it like that more often … or not," she added when he looked at her as though she'd lost her mind. 

"Detective Decker," he said, humor crinkling his eyes, "I do believe you may be ill. Or drunk. High perhaps? That is the first time you have ever given me an unsolicited, non-backhanded compliment on my looks." she couldn't stop her blush.

"This is the first time we haven't been afraid for our lives, tied up, bleeding and trapped in a dungeon while we're doing … whatever this is that we're doing. What are we doing, by the way?"

"Heading into the LAPD, I believe," Lucifer replied, his tone light but superficial, clearly avoiding the question now that she knew what to look for. "That is if you will get out of my car and stop stalling. It was your idea, darling."

"Very funny," she said, rolling her eyes and dripping sarcasm. "What are we? It's going to come up in the debriefing. What do we tell them? I won't ask you to lie, not again but how do we skirt this truth at least until we figure out where this goes? If they think we're romantically involved they won't let you work with me. They don't know that you're invulnerable and that I won't have to sacrifice innocents to save you."

"We're partners," he said smiling. "The laziness and vagueness of English are in our favor on this one, darling."

"Partners," she repeated, a smile of her own creeping up. "I like it. I don't think I could call you my boyfriend. It just … it doesn't seem like a big enough word to encompass… you."

"Girlfriend seems inadequate to convey your importance to me as well," Lucifer agreed, his dark eyes molten with emotion. "You won't allow me to kiss you here, will you." It wasn't a question but she shook her head all the same. 

"Later," she promised. "For now, let's face this fresh Hell." She climbed out of the car before she could change her mind and headed for the door. His long strides had him beside her in seconds. 

"Just so you know, it's nothing like Hell," he said, in the same offhanded way he always had, only now she could hear something else under it. "Though I do believe a demon must have invented paperwork."

"I heard it was the Devil," she argued, her tone mock serious. 

"I should think not!" he retorted, affronted before noticing the twitch in the corner of her mouth. "Oh, you think that's funny, do you?" She snorted before laughing outright, nearly hysterical and he realized it had been far too long since he'd heard her laugh. He decided that he would have to hear it more often.


	6. New Players and Old Friends

Entering the precinct was just as bad as she'd expected. For the first time she truly hated the grand staircase approach to the bullpen. No sooner had they hit the landing than it seemed like all eyes were on them, conversations switching to hushed whispers, wide-eyed glares. She knew that it probably wasn't actually true, that she was just projecting but all the same she was thankful for Lucifer's warm hand in the small of her back. Even, knowing how it would look, knowing she shouldn't, she couldn't help but scoot closer to him. That close she could feel both the warmth and the tension radiating from his lithe form.

Her own discomfort with the situation built as she wondered if he was sensing something she wasn't, her heart speeding with the adrenaline coursing through her. His hand shifted from her back to the hip farthest from him, pulling her closer so that their sides were now flush and he had to match his strides to hers in some odd parody of a three-legged race. His concern made her even more nervous. 

As she watched her feet on the stairs, a flicker of light caught her attention in her peripheral vision. She looked over, expecting to see sunlight glinting off his ring but saw that his fingers were thruming against his thigh, small flickers of flame dancing between them. She realized with sudden, cold dread that they had created a feedback loop, both keyed up by the other's anxiety to the point they were volatile. And he could be particularly lethal. Especially if he thought that she was in danger.

"We should go," she said suddenly, stopping at the foot of the stairs and turning to go back up them. "This was a bad idea. My car can wait. We're too keyed up. It's too soon. We should go." He nodded, knowing following her lead, not liking the looks some of them were throwing their way in the slightest.

"Decker!" a voice called to her right, she froze reflexively as a hand entered her peripheral vision, going for her shoulder. She tensed anticipating the unwelcome touch but it never came. Lucifer was there faster than a blink, his hand around Ramirez's wrist a bit too tightly if the tension in Ramirez's face was anything to go by. With a growl that Chloe could feel in her chest, Lucifer moved her with his freehand, stepping into the space between her and the other cop, an impassive expression on his face while his eyes revealed his turmoil. 

"I wasn't going to hurt her," Carlos said, his tone forced calm that instantly made Chloe realize he was trying to talk Lucifer down. He was afraid of what her partner might do, and if she was being honest, so was she.

"I was excited you guys are back," Carlos continued in the same soothing tone. "Dan was torn up over it, man. We all were. I just … I forgot that you both might be on edge. My bad." 

"Yes, it was “your bad”," Lucifer said, his tone cold. Carlos flinched trying and failing to pull his wrist from Lucifer's grip. "You can't just go about grabbing people without their consent." He looked prepared to continue his lecture or prove his point physically when Chloe placed her hand on his wrist, knowing that Carlos didn’t deserve his ire. He glanced at her, his eyes softening as he looked from Carlos to Chloe. She smiled slightly and moved her hand to his cheek, his eyes drifting closed as he leaned into it, a soft hum leaving his throat.

"Lucifer, let him go," Chloe said softly looking from him to Carlos, an apology to them both clear in her eyes. "He’s not a threat. He didn't mean it that way. He wouldn’t hurt me. I know him. I … I was just startled. He's a friend." Lucifer eyes snapped open, indecision clear in the dark depths. "He's not one of Marcus' men. He's Dan's friend. He’s _innocent,_ Lucifer.Let him go."

"As you wish, Detective," Lucifer replied eventually, freeing Ramirez's wrist with a rapidness that threw the man off balance. His expression made it clear that he had not wanted to release the man and had only done it to please Chloe. 

"I'm sorry," she said, offering Carlos a wan smile. "It's been a hell of a week."

"I'll bet," he replied, rubbing his wrist where he was sure that he'd have Lucifer's handprint. Damn the guy had a grip. "You look like you've been through hell. You still look good, man, but you're damn jumpy today," he added turning to Lucifer. 

"Apologies," he snapped, his tone saying the opposite. "You'll have to forgive me. Random men reaching for us or shouting her surname has rarely ended well this week. A bit of a conditioned response, if you will."

"We're good, man," Ramirez promised, holding his hands up. "I'm just glad you're back. Why are you back today? I'm sure she's on leave, and do we even pay you?"

"You do not," Lucifer said imperiously. "I am a free agent. And we are here because the Detective desires her car, wallet, keys and other personal effects. Who is overseeing the precinct now that Pierce has been revealed to be a criminal, treacherous feind?"

"That would be me," a man said, stalking towards them. “And you must be Detective Decker and Lucifer Morningstar.”

“Of course we must. And you are?” Lucifer deadpanned, his tone and body language making it clear that he wasn’t particularly interested in the answer. Chloe elbowed him gently and shot him a glare. _Please behave, Lucifer_ , she thought, knowing that he would hear but not knowing if he would listen. His exasperated sigh suggested the message was received, now to see if he would comply. 

“Lieutenant Smith,” the man responded, either not detecting Lucifer’s tone or unimpressed by it. Chlole had the distinct impression it was the latter. Which either made him brave or foolish with the irritated and volatile aura her partner was projecting today. She now knew it had been a bad idea to try to get anything done today. Maybe they should have taken it easy, stayed at home and basked in freedom. It was clear that neither of them was up to public scrutiny today. But here they were, now to ensure that they got out of there without bloodshed. 

“Of course it’s Smith,” Lucifer laughed scathingly. “And let me guess, your mother’s maiden-name was Jones?” 

“Miller, actually,” Lieutenant Smith replied with a small smile. “But that’s irrelevant. What _is_ relevant is that I am the acting supervisor of this precinct until they can get this whole mess sorted out. It’s not every day that a Lieutenant who runs an international criminal organization goes crazy, kidnaps a detective, who he used to be engaged to be married to, and her consultant who runs a nightclub and claims to be the Devil, who rumor has it was in a competition with the lieutenant for the heart of the detective. And then the FBI gets involved when no state lines were crossed and shoots everyone but the two of you after an anonymous tip leads them to your location. Did I leave anything out?”

“That Lieutenant Pierce was actually the immortal Cain, first murderer and truly evil human being?” Lucifer asked, raising an eyebrow. Smith let out a single, short laugh before composing himself. 

“Olivia warned me that you are a joker,” Smith said simply. “I know they FBI already took official statements, but you’re going to need to tell me as well. And I am going to need the truth from you both.” 

“It’s always the truth from me,” Lucifer promised. “Shall we retreat somewhere more private for the debriefing? As you can guess, it is a rather harrowing tale and I would rather not have an audience for its recounting.” 

“My office then,” Smith replied, gesturing for Lucifer to lead the way, who in turn gestured for Chloe who nodded and moved towards the lieutenant's office, trying to make herself as small and inconspicuous as possible. Hearing the circumstances laid out like that had made it sound like she and Lucifer had set Marcus up rather than the other way around. She almost wanted to refuse to go and tell the sanitized version of the story in the bullpen for everyone to hear. But she knew that it wouldn’t matter. If they thought she’d had Marcus killed, her and Lucifer’s account wouldn’t change it and would only embarrass them both if he pushed for details. And they would lose all plausible deniability about the nature of their relationship and with Lucifer only being a consultant she wasn’t sure the relationship disclosure paperwork would be applicable. 

Forcing her feet towards Marcus’--Smith’s office when all they wanted to do was sprint up the stairs was torture. She should have listened to Lucifer when he suggested that they wait a few days to do this. She wasn’t ready to ignore her instincts again, not when ignoring them had gone so poorly lately. As he closed the door behind her, she dug her nails into the palms of her hand in an attempt to ground herself and keep from pacing. 

“Take a seat,” Smith said, waiving his hand at the chairs on the side by the door before sitting in Marcus’ chair and surveying them. Lucifer folded gracefully into the plastic chair making it look like he was sitting on a throne rather than a plastic department issue chair. Chloe, however hovered, not comfortable sitting even with a desk between them, unable to bring herself to trust the new lieutenant who had spun the facts in the bullpen so it looked like they were at fault.

“Sit,” he repeated, offering her a smile that in other circumstances she might have described as warm, but it did nothing to assuage her distrust, nor was Lucifer as at ease as his casual posture suggested, the subtle tic in his jaw, nearly hidden under his beard and the restless motion in his fingers giving him away. He was as ready to fight or bolt as she was. 

“I’d rather stand, if that’s alright,” she said. “I … I’m still a bit … I’d rather have easy access to the exit.” He nodded, his expression softening, eyes ghosting over the “bruises” covering her skin, before settling on her eyes and seeing the barely contained need to do something. 

“I can understand that,” Smith said. “I, well, I saw the scene photos.” Chloe nodded, her blood going cold. She could hear her own pulse in her ears and suddenly wished that she had taken him up on the offer of a chair. On the tail of the cold came heat, a blush rising to cover her face and neck. It was bad enough that he had seen them but if the rest of the department saw them her career would never recover. They would never respect her again. 

“Course you did,” she muttered, feeling tears well up as she wondered just how many more of her coworkers had seen the photos of her tied to a bed in her underwear. “Do you know who else may have …”

“No one,” Smith promised, his tone sincere. “Agent Anders and I, we go way back. He knew that I had been assigned here and felt that I needed to be fully briefed on the case. On you, in particular, Mr. Morningstar. He and I have no secrets. The two of you and I have no secrets.”

“Really?” Lucifer said, his voice taking on that cold edge that made even Chloe shift uncomfortably. “So what did our _friend_ Agent Anders tell you? Exactly?” 

“Well for one thing, that there’s a whole lot more to this mess than a love-triangle gone wrong,” Smith said with a laugh. “Prehistoric murderers, the Devil himself, miraculous healing feathers. Nice job on the make-up, by the way. It is very convincing. What neither of us can figure out is how Detective Decker factors into all of this.”

“She was leverage,” Lucifer said, his words sharp. “Cain knew that I cared for her and used her to make me compliant. Something that will _never_ happen again and that it would be _very_ unwise to attempt. Likely fatal, even. As I warned Agent Anders, I have no intention of ever going quietly again and the specific circumstances that made it possible to incapacitate me have passed.”

“Now, now, Mr. Morningstar,” Smith said placatingly, “no one is threatening you or Detective Decker.”

“Really, because we feel threatened,” Chloe added while Lucifer scoffed. “If you know what happened then what the hell was that out there? You almost made it sound like you thought we had _framed_ Pierce and had the FBI do our dirty work by killing him. I’ve already been on the precinct shit list for the death of one dirty cop, I don’t intend to be on it a second time. Especially if you know what actually happened."

"You're already on the shit list," Smith said, shaking his head. "You never got off. Dirty or not, Malcolm was one of them. Exposing him as dirty, even if he did kidnap your daughter"

"And kill me," Lucifer added, to which Smith nodded before continuing, "it lost his wife his pension. And from what I hear, he burned through everything before he was killed. Whether he was corrupt or not, your refusal to drop the Palmetto case painted you with a bad brush. Your consultant's charm has smoothed much of it over, as has the turnover rate but don't delude yourself into thinking you ever got off that list. And I was only repeating what I've already heard."

"So what does this mean for us?" Chloe asked, her mouth dry at the idea that no one trusted her. Not really. Which would explain why no one complained that she had a civilian consultant for a partner. No one else wanted to work with her. Lucifer’s hand found hers and he offered her a small smile that she returned before turning back to Smith. 

"You're on mandatory two-week leave, with pay, while we get all the paperwork together to prove that he was a corrupt bastard," Smith replied with a shrug. "After that, we spread the word through some reliable leaks, maybe an xray or injury photo gets out. Not the scene photos, don't worry. Your fellow officers won’t get those from us. Then, you follow standard protocol for an officer involved death, probably some counseling and the two of you go back to work."

"Even though you know we've… well…" she blushed and Lucifer rescued her.

"Our sexual relationship will not be a barrier to our continued partnership?" he said as calmly as if he were asking about the weather.

"Rumor has it you've been doing it for years," Smith said. "Even Chief Munroe warned me that you two had a dynamic that hints at intimacy and that I was not to question it as long as your productivity remains high. So that's the deal; you two solve cases and keep it professional at work and I don't press the issue and ban Mr. Morningstar from working with the department." Lucifer bristled at the idea that one man could keep him from being where he wanted to be but it wasn't as if they couldn't be professional or catch murderers so it was moot.

"Your terms are agreeable," Lucifer said, magnanimously. "You have a deal with the Devil. I expect you will find our interpersonal conduct impeccable."

"I'm sure I will," Smith agreed. "There is one issue. I know that you can't lie, Mr. Morningstar."

"Don't, not can't," Lucifer corrected.

"A distinction unlikely to be relevant," Smith countered. "If anyone asks you directly, what is she to you?"

"My partner," Lucifer said without missing a beat. "And the best one I've ever had."

"That'll work," Smith nodded approvingly. "So, why are you actually here? I'm sure it wasn't to talk to me."

"It kinda was," Chloe said, moving to sit next to Lucifer now that she had a better understanding of Smith's position. "See, when we got kidnapped I lost my car. Which has my wallet, my ID and lots of other things in it. I was hoping you could tell me where it got towed. And help me get to it. Without my ID I'm dead in the water."

"It's here," he smiled. "Nice thing about police cruisers, they tend to get towed back to the barn. I'll have someone take you to it and then I don't want to see your faces here for two weeks. It will help if you're not here while I clean up the mess you've gotten yourselves into. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir," she replied while Lucifer offered a mock salute. With nothing more than an eyeroll, he waved them from his office. As they left he sighed and pulled a bottle of whiskey from his desk, courtesy of Cain, taking a sip with shaking hands before putting it back. Anders had warned him that meeting Lucifer would be intense but hearing it and experiencing it were totally different things. Hopefully tensions would be less high at their next encounter. He wasn't sure his heart could take another few rounds of that. 


	7. Possessions and Separation Anxiety

They weren’t even halfway across the precinct when Ella called their names and bounded towards them. She stopped about five feet away almost as if she had hit a barrier and eyed them carefully.

“I take it that didn’t go well,” she said, looking from one of them to the other in concern. “He can’t really think that you framed and murdered Cain, can he?” 

“Nothing of the sort, Ms.-- Ella,” Lucifer said, his tone a forced-polite thing that spoke of turbulent emotions. “The new lieutenant just happens to be old friends with _your_ new friend, Agent Anders. He wanted to make it clear to us that he knows who I am, what I can do, who I _have_ done, and what _he_ can do to our partnership should we not play by his rules. It was simply a bureaucratic pissing match. One that I will allow him to think he has won for now.” 

“Well, if it went that well, what’s up with all of this?” she asked, circling her hand to encompass the air around them. “You are putting out some _major_ “fuck off” vibes there, Lucifer. Even this far back I kinda want to back off further.” Lucifer's eyes widened slightly and shook his head, almost like someone banishing an errant thought and the sensation vanished.

“My apologies, Ella,” he offered, sounding gently contrite. “I did not wish to speak with any more random officers of the law today. That was not intended for you.” Chloe looked at him in confusion, having not noticed it and wondering if he could tailor it to individuals or if she was immune. As she watched another officer come towards them before abruptly making a course correction about six feet away and going around an invisible arc to enter the breakroom behind them she decided it could be tailored. Was it just a reversal of the desire mojo or something else? She made a mental note to ask him about it but from his posture she could tell that now wasn't the time. In fact, the tension in his frame made her realize that it was better to end this now. He was putting on a good show but he was still feeling on edge.

"Were you just checking on us or was there something you needed, Ella?" Chloe asked, wincing at just how rude that sounded. "I'm sorry," she added with a wan smile. "It's just that we were basically told to get our asses out and not come back for at least two weeks while he sorts out the mess _we_ created. It would probably be best not to antagonize him just yet, especially since he sort of threatened to fire Lucifer if we didn't behave."

"As if it was our fault we were kidnapped," Lucifer grumbled, his glacial mood upon leaving the office making much more sense in light of the fact that he was being blamed for something he hadn't done. Again. 

"Ouch, that sucks guys," Ella said. "Especially since it was kinda your fault, Luce … ifer." They both looked at her incredulously, Lucifer's eyes briefly flashing red as she continued, "I mean if it wasn't for Lucifer being who he is and using his … you know what, well, you'd be dead. That was what Ca-Pierce intended so … you getting kidnapped instead of just being dead was Lucifer's fault, sort of. I mean the actuall kidnapping, and torture, well that was all Pierce but … "

"We get it, Ella," Chloe said with a laugh, relaxing as she realized what Ella meant. She glanced at her partner, wondering if he was still irritated but Lucifer's face had morphed into an amused expression as the forensic scientist floundered. 

"So to summarize, you're suggesting that I'm responsible for our kidnapping because I didn't let him kill us?" Lucifer laughed.

"Pretty much," Ella agreed. "But what I actually wanted, other than to make sure you guys were ok, since Go-man did you look pissed, was to give you these." She turned around and picked up an evidence bag with the tape broken and handed it to Lucifer. He eyed her curiously before opening it and seeing his phones, flask, keys and wallet. 

"Since he's dead and you were rescued from his custody the FBI doesn't need your things to prove that he had you," she explained. "They were mailed to me with a note from Anders asking me to give them to you the next time I saw you. LAPD has yours, Chloe, and they are refusing to give up evidence yet. And I snuck a peek, it's broken. You might as well get a new one."

"Thank you Ms. Lopez, Ella," he said, heading for the door. "Give your new friend my best." Chloe thanked Ella for trying and then headed off after Lucifer, jogging a bit to catch up. When they hit the parking lot, she spotted her car and headed towards it, hoping the keys were in the center console. She was pleased to find that they were, and when she opened the lock box, her wallet was right where she had left it. She looked up in surprise as Lucifer slid into the passenger seat and began pulling things from the bag Ella had given him. 

"Well, there's a couple fewer stops for me today," he replied, replacing his effects in their designated places. "Too bad for you, Detective. Less I _have_ to do means more time for what I _want_ to do which is annoy you."

"Too bad for you because I don't feel annoyed with you at the moment," she replied feeling the reply ring true and fall flat after what had just happened. She wasn't annoyed but she was a bit unsettled.She really hadn’t known exactly what he was going to do back there and it was disconcerting to worry that he might actually hurt someone just for startling him. 

“You can't spend all day with me anyway," she reminded him. "You still have things to do. You have  _ two _ cars in the parking lot that need to be returned home and we're banned from the precinct for two weeks, remember? You might miss your cars before then." 

"I can just call Patrick and he can send someone and they can deliver them home for me," Lucifer countered with a smirk. "Problem solved and you are not deprived of my company. Or I can pop back later. I'm banned from the precinct, not the lot. And you won't even need to give me a lift, if that's too grey for you. Not now that I'm actually  _ using _ the feathery menaces rather than lopping them off." She went a little green at the reminder that he had amputated limbs capable of feeling pain more than once, which he misinterpreted, suddenly growing quieter as he continued, "Unless, it is my company you object to, Detective. You have seemed … off today. Much more on edge and confrontational than is your norm." She bit back her argument that he was projecting and decided to reassure him instead. She did still enjoy his company and knew that she was safe with him, even if he was a bit jumpy. 

"Lucifer, I  _ want _ to spend time with you," she said locking eyes with him to let him look for even a hint of a lie. "I have enjoyed spending time with you when it was just us this past week. Mostly. But it is no longer just us and we are going to have to separate at times. There are things we can’t do together. You have a business to run and I have Trixie. 

"Those two things aren't exactly compatible," she reminded him, reaching across the car to put her hand on his. "She's a minor. I can't bring Trixie with me to help you entertain at your nightclub and I wouldn't ask you to give that up for us. I know you love it. We  _ will _ work out a balance but that will take time. Right now you need to get your cars home, maybe call Linda, and see to your company. I need to get a new cellphone and see to Trixie." She watched as discomfort flitted across his face. 

"As soon as you are done taking care of business, you are more than welcome to join us," she promised. "I won't change my mind just because we're apart for an afternoon. I still love you, Lucifer. I understand that you're the Devil and have come to terms with it. I'm not going to freak out and run. And I will still love you this evening, or tomorrow when you're free to show up."

"What if something happens while I'm gone?" He asked, his voice barely audible. 

"Lucifer, nothing will--"

"You can't know that," he cut her off, pulling his hand from hers and running it through his hair. "I  _ know  _ I can't stay with you constantly. I do, but I can't help but want to. What if you get hurt or killed because I wasn't there to save you. It would be just like Dad to do something like that after we survived what we did. Especially after his odd pop in. He had a motive to that. Maybe it was to get me off guard, I don’t know. But I don’t trust it. And if I’m not with you I can’t protect you. You don't even have a phone to call me if you get into trouble. How will I know that you’re alright?"

"Lucifer," she started but whatever she was going to say was lost as he turned to her, grasping both of her hands in his. His eyes were wild, his expression almost frantic as the idea of her dying wafted through his mind. Lying on the ground in a pool of her own blood, gasping for air and reaching desperately for a phone that wasn’t there. Dying alone because he wasn’t there to save her. Because he couldn’t get her a feather. A feather! She could have one even if he wasn’t there if only she would agree. 

"Would you consent to keeping a feather on you?" he asked, moving his shoulders as if to summon his wings, seeming to forget they were in her little car in the middle of the precinct lot. 

"Lucifer, stop," she said, pulling her hand free and placing it on his shoulder to halt the motion. "Please stop. If it will make you feel better, then I will. But there are a couple of issues. What if I lose it? Feathers don't exactly stay in pockets and I don't always carry a purse. What happens if it falls out and someone finds a glowing Devil feather on the sidewalk? We've already seen what divinity did to Cain and he already knew about it. We'd have another Azreal's Blade case on our hands. People killing just for that little fragment of divine power. I’d rather avoid that. I don't particularly want to see the X-files branch again so quickly. Do you?" He sighed and she could tell he didn't like the answer, though he couldn't argue against her logic. But she did like the idea of having a way to cheat death and ensure that Trixie had a mother. And working homicide was a dangerous job. A way to keep a feather on her would be nice in case she was shot while he was off thinking the case was boring. 

"If you can figure out a way for me to  _ safely  _ carry one of your  _ little _ feathers with me and be less likely to lose it, I would love to have one," she promised. "I’m not ready to die. But that will also take time. And I've survived this long without a get-out-of-death-free card. I'll survive another few days. Unlike you, I  _ do _ have a sense of self preservation." He nodded, unhappy with her refusal but understanding the logic, his mind already whirling with how to contain and carry a feather. One of the smaller ones from the inside would heal and be easier to contain, but how to do it? Maybe a pendant? Or a literal charm bracelet? While he would love to cover her in gold, she seemed more like a silver person. And it would be ironic, no? Silver, supposed to ward against evil, containing a feather from the Devil himself. At her voice, he snapped out of his musings and focused on her question. 

  
  


"How does prayer work?" She asked suddenly, an idea forming in her head. It took him a moment to understand what she was asking and even then he couldn't see the relevance. Even so, there was no harm in answering her question. Or, more likely, confirming what she already knew. 

"You form and direct a thought to me and I hear it," he said, looking at her like she'd lost her mind. Surely she knew what prayer was. She’d engaged in enough of it even before she knew that he could hear it. 

"But what do you actually get?" She pushed, her expression the same one she wore when she’d figured out a lead on a case. "Is it like texting where you just get the words or do you get tone, smell, picture? Location?"

"It's not like texting," he said, his voice tight at the memory of her fear and desperation coloring nearly all of the prayers he had heard lately. "I … I get what you are thinking, feeling. It's a rather intense and semi invasive experience. Everything in your mind in that moment is mine. There are no lies through prayer. No half-truths. It is the most intimate, honest form of communication possible." She was momentarily floored by the realization that she had been so casual with something that was clearly very profound but pushed it aside to examine later since there were issues that needed addressed now. 

"But do you get location?" She insisted. "If I were to pray to you for help, could you find me? I already know that you can teleport. If you can use my prayers as a celestial GPS then I can be anywhere, you can be anywhere and if I need you you can get to me instantly."

"That … that might work," he said softly, his thoughts whirring as he wondered if he did get location from prayer. He hadn't thought about it in millennia and hadn't needed it when they'd been trapped as she was right there. "We'd have to test it but it should work. If it does, do you think… might we be able to convince the Child to pray for help if she were in danger?"

"Trixie is Catholic, Lucifer," Chloe laughed. "She knows how to pray. But I am sure she'd be willing to address life-preserving prayers to you." Lucifer both looked pleased and rolled his eyes at the same time mouthing 'Catholic" before climbing out of the car and leaning down to mutter, "pray if you need me, Love. I'll see you this evening." As he walked away to get into his car she wondered if there was a section in the DSM to cover dealing with separation anxiety in your millenia-old partner who could instantly teleport wherever he wanted and hear your thoughts. She also decided that whatever Lucifer was paying Linda, it wasn't enough.

At the same time, the wave of anxiety that threatened to overtake her and force her to call him back as he walked away had her wondering if Linda had a friends-and-family discount. She reached for her phone to text Linda before remembering that she didn't have one. Not having a normal way to call for help almost made her call him back but she swallowed it down. They were two separate people with separate interests who needed to be able to function autonomously. They couldn’t be attached at the hip. He looked back before getting into his car and she offered him a small wave hoping that from that distance he couldn’t see her expression or hear her racing heart. Especially since she knew that she was being ridiculous. She was a grown adult. She could go to a cell store herself. Despite her attempts to convince herself it was fine and good, disappointment, fear and anxiety surged again nearly to the point of panic as he got in his car and drove away. She put her car into drive and left the lot as well, vowing that Linda would be her first text after her first stop at the cell store. This separation anxiety was getting stupid. 


	8. Boundaries and Understandings

After leaving the phone store--what was the point of insurance if it didn't cover replacement in the case of broken during kidnapping?--she did text Linda inquiring into rates and available times. After that, she checked her voicemail. There were only two. One from Dan that had him cussing in both English and Spanish dated the date of her disappearance and one from her mom berating her for not answering. No one else. A whole week gone and two voicemails. True, Dan and her job had known she couldn't answer and her most persistent contact had been with her but it still hurt. She wondered how many Lucifer had had before remembering that at least the first day his phone (phones) hadn't rang. Unless they'd been on silent. 

That in mind she texted him, if for no other reason than to let him know that communications between them didn't have to be one-sided and invasively intimate. She rolled her eyes and laughed at his response.

_Lost my phone, who dis?_ With a winking Devil emoji. She didn't even know that devil emojis came in a winking form. But of course he would have it if they did. And two could play that game.

_Sorry, wrong number. The person I was trying to reach wouldn't lose my number. Lost phone or not._ Seconds later it was ringing and his voice drifted through the line as she answered. She smiled wider at his quiet chuckle.

"Wrong number? Oh I think not. And even if it was, it won't be a misdial you'll regret," he purred. "How was the store, Darling?"

"I should have let you come with me," she sighed. "Apparently a phone breaking while you're being kidnapped is an 'act of God' and not covered under the insurance. I had to buy a new one with no trade in credit."

"At least they didn't try to blame me," he said, his tone morose. "Dad should get some credit for times when things go wrong. He's got more control over it than I do. Though I will reimburse you either the trade in or the entire purchase. Lady's choice. Apparently it was my fault we were kidnapped."

"I don't blame you, you know?" She offered since it seemed like he needed to hear it again. "I blame Marcus. You didn't cause _any_ of it. He made his choices and made many of ours for us. We did the best we could with what we had. You included. You're stronger and more resilient than a human but you're not all-powerful, Lucifer. Or omniscient."

"But I could have--"

"We both could have," she countered, wishing they could have this conversation face-to-face so he could see her face and reassure himself that she wasn't lying. "I could have shot-to-kill at the start and saved us a lot of trouble. With him dead you could have totally taken the rest. Especially since they likely wouldn't have shot at us." 

_I don't blame you, Lucifer,_ she prayed, remembering that he'd said it was impossible to lie while praying. She let out a squeal and reached for the gun she wasn't carrying when he materialized beside her, smoothing his suit and looking like he hadn't just appeared from nowhere. The rush of displaced air in the car the only atmospheric hint of his appearance.

"What do you know, it works," he said, a pleased smirk on his face. As her heart restarted she opened her mouth to berate him but couldn't seem to form words. It had been weird enough when she'd been with him while he did it but to see him just appear from nowhere was worse. Not only had he scared her, what of she'd been in a crowd? It would have been a handful of potential Pierces. 

"Lucifer, you can't just ... I mean ..."

"Come now, Chloe," he said soothingly. "We agreed to test it and all I need to complete my business is my phone. At least now we know that I can find you if you need me." She shook her head, looking down to hang up the phone seeing that Linda had texted back.

_Solo or couples? And how long do you need?_

Chloe glanced at Lucifer a moment before replying. It was clear that they both needed help. They were both anxious and on edge. Also, he couldn't just _materialize_ for the hell of it. They needed ground rules and Linda was uniquely qualified to assist.

_Both and how long do you have?_

_I have an open 3 PM. Do you want it? Lucifer is already scheduled at 4 and he's my last appointment._

"I know you're already seeing Linda later but are you up for an earlier trip?" She asked. "As a couple?"

"Do we get to have makeup sex after she resolves our problem?" He asked cheekily.

"No," she said a bit too quickly. "Do we have a problem that big?"

"I don't know," he replied, his tone growing hard as he leaned into her space. "Do we?" The absolute _dick_! He was trying to intimidate her. It backfired. Straightening her spine, she turned and glared at him. 

"Maybe," she snapped, pushing against his chest without budging him an inch. "Because _this_ , this isn't okay, Lucifer. You can't try to intimidate me when you don't like what I'm saying. You can't threaten my friends' lives if they hurt me. And you can't almost break a man's arm for startling me. I get that we're both jumpy and that you have no idea what the hell you're doing, but guess what, neither do I! I've never dated an ageless, immortal being who can fly, teleport, and control fire before. Who is the actual biblical Devil that I only started believing because my ex-fiance is a psychopath and the immortal inventor of fratricide who tried to kill us and forced your hand. Which, not cool either. You could have prove the truth to me at any time.

"Not to mention our imbalance in age, power, finances and experiences. Forgive me for wanting help from your therapist to connect. Especially when she's the only one I can talk to about this without being committed. Besides you and my roommate who is a _literal_ hellspawned demon and not particularly good with human emotions. And Ella who is just so happy that we're "getting some" that she'll be next to useless or just make excuses for you." He seemed to deflate at her tirade, folding in on himself just as he had in the cage. He sank into the seat trying to make himself as small and unimposing as possible, ashamed at having tried to intimidate her when that hadn't been his goal. 

"You're right, Detective," he said softly. "That is a problem. Many problems.

"Lucifer you can't just … what did you say?"

"I said that you are right, Detective," he repeated. "We clearly have a miscommunication issue that Dr. Linda is uniquely poised to rectify. And you clearly have some inferiority and age gap issues that you need to work out. Let's go see her, shall we?" She wanted to remind him that _he_ was the one freaking out and nearly assaulting people but didn't want him to shut her out entirely or run so refrained knowing that Linda would have something to say about it. She glanced at the clock and saw that they could just make it if they left now. 

_Yes please_ , she sent to Linda, not wanting for a reply before pulling out into traffic and heading towards Linda's office.

* * *

The drive was less than pleasant, Lucifer babbling incessantly and projecting his behaviors and motivations onto her until she was about ready to strangle him. Not that it would do any good or that she would ever try it. Even so, she was happy when he gave up on conversation and took to playing on one of his phones. As another text message came in she could help but ask, "how many missed calls or texts did you have while we were gone?"

"Which line?" He asked, his voice showing no sign of malice but also less of his usual warmth. 

"Any of them."

"One text from Mazikeen threatening me if I wasn't already dead, one missed call from Linda when I missed our session, a few from distributors wanting to offer Lux new products, a couple from Patrick needing me to sign off on things, and of course the third line always has calls, texts and such from those seeking pleasure or favors," he listed. "Why?"

"I had two," she replied. "Dan when he found us missing and Mom. No one else."

"If it helps, no one but Mazikeen seemed to think it was odd I was actually gone with no word," he said, reaching out for her hand. "Patrick asked me how Vegas was. Thought I'd taken you this time. He thought that I'd just up and left. Again. Even though last time I told him where I'd be in case of an emergency that Maze couldn't solve."

"We disappeared for a week and only four people called us," Chloe muttered. "I mean, of course the people we work with knew what happened. But mom only called once. And I guess I work with all my friends. But you …"

"Mazikeen and Linda called, Ella and Detective Douche knew and you were with me," he said simply. "That is everyone I know that would notice my absence or miss me. Lux is set up to run with minimal attention from me for months and Patrick mostly manages the day-to-day minutia. Amenadiel has gone home and he's my only family here. He's my only family that cares, actually. Everyone else only hopes I'll spare them a moment but don't actually expect me to reply or find it particularly odd if I don't."

"That's just … we're …"

"Pathetic?" He supplied with a shrug.

"I was going to say 'close-knit'," she offered wondering if his answer wasn't more accurate. "There aren't many of us but what we have matter. We've all gone through hell for each other." He snorted and was prepared to say something, likely scathing when she added "figuratively. Or literally in some cases. I guess I'm just being too sensitive."

"Something else you can discuss with the good doctor," he said primly, out of his seat and heading for the door before the car was completely stopped. She almost told him he should wait until it was parked if he didn't want her to run him over before remembering that if she was to do that it would only damage her car. Suddenly his apparent lack of self-preservation throughout their partnership made a whole lot more sense. With a sigh, she entered Linda's building. 

It was different entering Linda's office as a patient and Chloe was uncertain how to go about it. She was planning to follow Lucifer's lead but when he walked in and sat down on the couch, stretching out his long legs like he owned the place she couldn't bring herself to do the same. Instead, she stood awkwardly by the door waiting for instructions.

"Come in, Chloe," Linda said, her smile a bit different than the one Chloe was used to, more reserved. It took her a moment to realize that this was Linda's professional mask at which point she nodded and entered the office. Linda gestured at the couch but Chloe looked at Lucifer a moment to see if he minded her sitting by him, he certainly had gotten out of her car like a bat out of hell. Which led to her wondering if there are bats in hell. 

"By all means, Detective," he said, his expression inscrutable, "sit. I won't bite. Unless you desire it." The last was said with a smouldering glance that had her laughing and shaking her head as she sat beside him, near enough to feel the heat rising off of him but not quite touching. It was telling to her when he didn't close the gap. 

"So, I know you both contacted me independently but Chloe expressed a _desire_ for me to see you both together. Why was that?" Linda asked simply. Lucifer chuckled darkly at her choice of words knowing that it hadn't been accidental. He had to admit that Linda was good. Even Chloe snickered at the decision. 

"I'm here to untangle the mess of an information dump I received while kidnapped by Cain," Lucifer said with a shrug. " _She_ seems to think we have problems that require _you_ to discuss though we have yet to try alone."

"We haven't had time, Lucifer," Chloe countered. "We were rescued yesterday and haven't been truly alone since."

"There was no one in the car," he argued. "We could have made time had you wanted to. But all you wanted was to tell me that I was overreacting for worrying about your mortality issues and criticize my relationship with Mazikeen.

"They're not issues, Lucifer," Chloe began, her words tight as she tried not to snap at him. "I'm _human_. It's _normal_ for me to get hurt and eventually die. And it's _not_ normal to threaten your friends with a slow death. Not if you _mean_ it."

"And criticize me for attempting to protect you. A trait of mine you weren't complaining about for the last week," he said speaking over her. "You can't have it both ways, darling. Either I'm the Devil and you accept me and what that entails or you don't. It's not like there's a Devil-lite available. An abridged version."

"I don't want an abridged version, Lucifer," she snapped. "I just don't want you teleporting at random and scaring the shit out of people.What if I’d been in a crowd? And you can’t be _threatening_ people who just look at me wrong. That's a crime, Lucifer. And I understand now why you don't seem to care about following laws since you _actually_ answer to a higher authority but I still can't let you break them wantonly in my presence. I'll lose my job and maybe go to jail."

"I would never let that happen, Love," he promised and while it was sweet she couldn't stop herself from replying, " _not_ the point."

"Alright," Linda said, slightly caught off guard by the exchange that had just taken place and realizing she was probably going to need her own therapist when this was over. "So, there was a lot to unpack in that conversation. Lucifer, you were kidnapped by Cain? Do you mean Pierce?"

" _We_ were kidnapped and yes," Lucifer replied briskly. "That's where we've been the last week. He exploited my little Detective-derived mortality glitch to extort my compliance in our kidnapping. Where I was pinned up like some morbid celestial butterfly with a cable through my bloody wings and the threat of her life and wellness as incentive to behave. And you wonder why I am a bit disinclined to _behave_ myself today, Detective. I've had a lifetime's worth of behaving myself lately. And I'm a bit tired of just having to accept mistreatment from others."

"Lucifer, I didn't realize that was why--"

"And you didn't ask, did you?" He laughed bitterly. "No. It's not like I know anything about self control. Not even if it could save my own life. Or yours." The memory of his muscles coiling to hold still both when Cain riveted his wings and as she pulled bullets flooded her mind. How what had clearly been a desire to either push her away or pull away himself would abort in a tremble as he restrained himself. All the times he had wanted to lash out at their captors in defense of her or himself but hadn't so that they wouldn't hurt her. How had she _ever_ assumed he was incapable of restraint? 

"Lucifer, I'm sorry," she whispered, incapable of more volume. "I don't even …" he looked unconvinced so she locked her eyes on his. Allowing her regret and sorrow at her mistake to fill her mind she thought _I should have known better. I'm sorry._ She expected him to scoff and was shocked when his eyes grew soft, and he stroked her cheek, a sad smile on his face. 

"I forgive you, love," he promised. "You didn't ask but I didn't offer either." Chloe smiled and nuzzled his palm. Linda watched the exchange wondering what had just happened. Lucifer was never so easily soothed when he felt he'd been wronged. Nor did Chloe seem surprised by any of what he had said, which made sense if she'd been the incentive to his compliance. But that meant that …

"Chloe, do you _know?_ "

"Kinda hard to miss giant glowing wings," she said with a shrug. "Even covered in blood and bullet holes they do make an impression."

"And are you two …?"

"Partners?" Chloe asked, looking at Lucifer hopefully. 

"Partners," he agreed. "In all senses of the word."

"So … sexually?" Linda clarified, wondering if they had some kind of telepathic link that allowed single word answers to mean more. Or maybe it was code? They both nodded, though Chloe could feel herself blush at how calm Linda and Lucifer seemed discussing their sex life. Linda nodded as well.

"So first, I think you need to bring me up to speed on the events of the last week. All the gory details. I can't help if I don't know what happened. And then … then I'll figure out where we need to start and with who."

So they did just that, telling her of their last week and sparing her no gory detail as they did. She became more disturbed, her professional mask slipping the longer they talked and she heard just what her friends had endured. When they told her what the FBI had interrupted she stopped them, going to her desk and pulling a bottle from inside taking a swig before offering it to Chloe and Lucifer. The detective accepted but Lucifer pulled his own flask from his pocket and took a drink. When Chloe made a face at the burn from the tequila, he handed the bottle back to Linda and offered Chloe his flask. She took it, sipping, enjoying the taste without the burn, before handing it back thinking that if she wasn't careful she'd become a booze snob like him.

"Do you … is it normal to drink during therapy?" Chloe asked softly. Lucifer shrugged and took another sip, Linda raised the tequila bottle to her lips shaking her head.

"Highly unorthodox," she said after a moment. "But nothing about this situation is normal. Actually I should refer you both out but nobody else is going to believe this. So here we are." She paused, shaking her head and staring at a slightly sun bleached part of the rug while she thought. 

"Ok, so here's what I think we should do," she said eventually. "Lucifer, if you would be so kind as to step out and let me and Chloe talk, I think her issues will be easier for me to understand and council."

"I'll just fetch coffee, shall I?" He asked, his tone sardonic. It was a show of just how shaken she was that Linda missed it and nodded.

"That would be lovely," she replied. "I wouldn't complain if just this once you decided to spike mine."

"That was sarcasm, Doctor," he said. "But if it is spiked coffee you desire, then I shall provide. Do you have a liquor of choice?" 

She shook her head and said, "something strong." 

He hummed his approval before turning to his partner, his eyes going gentle. "Chloe?" He asked.

"Surprise me," she smiled. "Just remember that I have to drive." With a promise of a speedy return and a quick chaste kiss for Chloe, Lucifer left closing the door behind him. 


	9. Unpacking the Baggage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note, I am not a psychiatrist. I do have some training in therapeutic communication but am not an expert by any means.

Linda waited until she heard the door to her waiting room open and close before she said, "Normally I let you pick where we start but I have a rather pressing question that I need an answer to before we can begin."

"Yes, he was good in bed," Chloe said, anticipating the question. "'Best night of my life' about sums it up." Linda laughed but the look of concern on her face didn't leave.

"I already knew that," Linda reminded her. "Drinking during sessions isn't the only unprofessional thing I've done where Lucifer is concerned." Chloe nodded at the reminder and had to remind herself that her friend was through having sex with her partner long before they began doing it and had moved on to his brother who had once slept with Maze who had, at some point, slept with Lucifer. When had her life become a celestial soap opera? 

"Then what did you need Lucifer gone to ask?" Chloe asked. "There is nothing else that he doesn't know and it might have helped for him to hear how I feel. I know it helped when I heard his side."

"You said Lucifer used one of his feathers to heal your broken bones," Linda said. "Did it heal your bruises too?"

"Everything down to the stiffness in my joints and the spot in my back that used to ache from my epidural when Trixie was born," Chloe replied. "He says I was a miracle but let me tell you, his feathers are pretty damn miraculous themselves. I don't recommend them for large injuries, though. That is intense. Brief, but intense."

"Then why do you have bruises on your face and wrists?" Linda asked, her tone non-judgmental but probing at the same time. Chloe laughed again. 

"Oh, those. Lucifer did this this morning in the precinct lot," she said. She didn't understand the horror in Linda's expression until she spoke.

"Chloe, how are you laughing about that?" Linda asked, her professional mask shattered at the idea that Lucifer had hit her friend and Chloe found it amusing. "I know you said he's been volatile today but I didn't know that you meant actually violent. Has he hit you before?"

"Hit me?" Chloe asked, horrified that Linda thought Lucifer could ever hurt her or that she would let him before she understood. His make-up job really had been too good. "He would never! It's make-up, Linda. I … I couldn't just walk into the precinct without a scratch on me claiming to have been kidnapped for a week by our lieutenant who is now dead. Lucifer he … he helped. I can wash it off if it bothers you. That actually makes more sense of the weird looks the guy at the cell store was giving me. I forgot I had it on."

"I'm fine," Linda promised, more relieved than she could put into words that he hadn't done it. "Now that I know they aren't real. Now, Chloe, why didn't you feel that you could walk into the precinct unharmed?"

"Marcus was liked," she said with a shrug. "He was brisk and he could be a dick but he was liked. I'm tolerated. I already broke the code once by investigating Malcolm and the Palmetto case. Everyone knew that Marcus and I were engaged and then that we weren't. Apparently, rumor has it all the way up to the chief that Lucifer and I have been _involved_ for years. We both go missing, Marcus winds up dead, neither of us are injured. Yeah, that would go over really well."

"You were worried that if you didn't look like a victim that people would believe that you and Lucifer set Marcus up to be killed to get him out of the way for your own affair?" Linda asked softly.

"The new lieutenant implied that it was already being said," she sighed, resting her head in her hands. "Why can't they see what Marcus was? What he was capable of? Why are they so blind to his cruelty?"

"Them or you?" Linda asked. Chloe was silent a moment before she answered. 

"Me," she admitted. "Linda, I almost married him. He … he shot me, Linda. When I wouldn't move and let him kill Lucifer, he shot me. Would have killed me if I hadn't been wearing a vest. He threatened my life and Lucifer's without batting an eye." She paused, drawing a shuddering breath that came out a sob. "H-he … he tied me up. Threatened me to get Lucifer to _let_ them hurt him. He used me against Lucifer because he knew that he could. They could only hurt him because I made him vulnerable and he only let them because they threatened me."

"He told you what they did, but oh God, Linda, watching it happen," Chloe was weeping in earnest now. "And Marcus, he tried to make him hold still and when he couldn't .. . I think Marcus broke my cheek. He punched me right in the face, brief hesitation no sign of remorse. I watched him kill two people in cold blood. He threatened to rip Lucifer's wings off with a winch. And he'd've done it. I know he would have. If I hadn't've done exactly as I was told, he would have dismembered him and let him bleed out on the floor of that warehouse. I would have had to watch him die knowing that I was next.

"He almost killed me, you know," Chloe sobbed. "When he moved us to the bunker. He had my wrists and ankles cuffed. They goaded Lucifer into attacking and when he did, Marcus choked me. I couldn't breathe and I couldn't break free and I couldn't call for help. My vision was already dimming when he called Lucifer. I saw his panic but I already knew that I was going to die. I can remember everything going black and then I woke up in Lucifer's arms on the ground." She stopped and Linda waited, sensing that there was more.

"I almost married him, Linda," she said softly, brokenly. "That cruelty wasn't new. It didn't just appear. It was always there and I missed it. If I'd've married him he could have killed me or Trixie and I couldn't've stopped him. I know. I tried. He would have beat me. I know it. Lucifer said it would only have happened once but … how did I miss that, Linda?"

"From what you say, everyone did," Linda reassured her. "The police didn't know that he was a criminal. They hired him. Dan didn't know. Maze didn't know that he was a risk to you or Trixie or I can assure you he wouldn't have survived. If she had known or even thought that he was a risk to you or Trixie, she would have killed him. No one knew."

"Lucifer did," Chloe said. "He … he tried to tell me and I blew him off. Accused him of jealousy. I … I wasn't very nice."

"You thought he was crazy," Linda probed.

"He was acting crazy," Chloe countered. "He wasn't sleeping. He was manic. And he was telling the truth. He always tells the truth. Marcus was the one who drove him crazy that time. Him and Maze. And I believed he was."

"He openly declares he's the Devil, Chloe," Linda said seriously. "Of course you thought he was crazy. So did I. I'd worry more if you hadn't. And of course you didn't take him at face value. Everyone lies."

"Not Lucifer," Chloe breathed. "And he doesn't break deals. But he did for me, Linda. He didn't mention that in the part about the rescue but the FBI wasn't really needed. He had it handled.

"He told you about my deal with Cain but he glossed over, intentionally, the other part. Lucifer agreed to abide by my terms which I left loopholes big enough to drive fucking semis through. He … I overestimated my value to him. Even after all that, I … I thought he still might care. I didn't realize he never had. My entire relationship with him was a giant "fuck you" from him to Lucifer. I offered myself to him for Lucifer's freedom to move around the bunker." Linda's expression was carefully blank but Chloe knew her well enough to see the pain the words caused her.

"I didn't see another choice," she tried to justify it. "He … Lucifer, he couldn't rest. If he wasn't standing on the chair he was in agony. There was no way he could sleep and even he _needs_ sleep eventually. He was desperate. _I_ was desperate. I was all I had to offer. Turns out Cain accepted as a way to hurt Lucifer more. He made him agree to stay out of the way, cut him free and then planned to make him restrain himself and watch and participate in my payout. I got cold feet when he mentioned he planned to _share_ me. I prayed for it to stop and Lucifer stopped it."

"He was ready to burn it all to the ground, literally," she muttered miserably. "He was going to burn them all alive. And then the FBI showed up and killed them anyway." She looked away uncomfortably and Linda spoke.

"Chloe it's natural to be disturbed when you find out someone you love is capable of violence," Linda said softly. "But Lucifer plays by different rules than the rest of the world. In his mind that was divine retribution. But it is natural to be uncomfortable with it."

"I'm uncomfortable with the fact that I was okay with it," Chloe said looking up at her and beginning to cry again. "I'm a cop, Linda. I'm supposed to protect people and … and I was fine with, no, _wanted_ him to kill them. They'd caused us so much pain and anxiety. And even the ones that didn't participate stood by and did nothing. I hate myself for thinking that their death was too quick and easy. I wanted them to suffer and it bothers me."

"It is normal to want people who have caused you anguish to suffer, Chloe but you have to move past that for yourself. You have to find a way to accept that part of you and come to terms with it. Normally I suggest talking to your partner but I don't know that this is something Lucifer can help you with. For all his age, he hasn't managed to come to peace with himself." Chloe nodded, thinking about some of the things Lucifer had said and done during their partnership and knew that at least here Linda knew the truth about him. 

"I'm glad he didn't have to," she said with a sigh. "For all that he claims he's the Devil and doesn't need emotions, or friends or understanding he does. Maybe more than the rest of us even. He … I'm glad that the FBI killed them instead. It's against the rules, you know. He told me that celestials aren't allowed to kill humans. It would have torn him up to break that rule. He already broke his own code for me, it's good that he didn't break God's."

" Even if he meant to, could he have?" Linda asked, wondering if Chloe had thought about that. "Would God have let him break that commandment? Does he have the ability to defy _God_?"

"He said he could. Something about him not being the fire and the fire being able to kill them even if he summoned it. He said it was a loophole," Chloe said. "I don't know if it was true and am glad he didn't have to find out. I'll bet he's glad that he didn't have to find out."

"It's impossible to know how Lucifer feels about that," Linda said. "Or anything really. Lucifer has had many traumatic experiences in his millenia of existence and he has some very odd perspectives on many things. And he will need to figure out his own feelings about it first, then,maybe, he'll let you in on them. All you can do for right now is figure out how you feel about what happened." 

Chloe remembered Lucifer's statement that Linda still got hung up on some of his perspectives and realized that wasn't just Lucifer seeing faults were there were none, but yet more truth. She wondered if it wasn't more simple than they were making it. Yes, he was the Devil. A nearly all-powerful celestial being older than time that created the stars and God knew what else. But he was also Lucifer. An individual who had been kicked out of his home dramatically and traumatically just for asking to make his own decisions. Forced into a kill or be killed environment, unable to trust anyone for fear that they would betray him, which lots of people had. His mother, his siblings, Maze, in a way Linda. Yes, he was the devil but was it also possible to think of him as she had before, minus thinking he was delusional, as just a distrustful man with a traumatic past and a thirst for justice? She wondered if Linda had tried that?

She opened her mouth to ask but had apparently been silent for too long because Linda asked, "So how do you? Feel about what happened?" Chloe sighed.

"I don't know," she said. "I want to say that I'm fine and will be. But so much happened. Surprisingly, finding out Lucifer is the Devil is giving me the least amount of trouble."

" _That_ is bothering you the least?" Linda asked, her eyebrows going to her hairline and her voice shooting through an octave. She knew now without asking that Linda hadn't tried to see him as just another person since she'd found out.

"He's still Lucifer," Chloe shrugged. "Just less crazy since I know he's been telling the truth. Nothing about him has changed except that now I know. I trust him. It's me that I don't trust." 

"You don't trust yourself?" Linda asked slowly. Chloe shook her head.

"I'm a cop, Linda. I have to make split-second, life-or-death decisions daily," Chloe said simply. "Working that fast, you can't logic through it. You have to trust your gut. Your instincts. But Linda, how do I ever trust my instincts again? I thought Marcus was a good man. I let him around my daughter. I was going to marry him. If I can't see evil that profound in someone I thought I knew well enough to marry, how can I be a cop?"

"Borrow mine until your trust in yours come back," Lucifer offered from where he was leaning against the door frame. Both women jumped, having missed him coming in Linda letting out a "God" and Chloe a "christ!" 

"Wrong deity, darlings," he said walking in and handing Linda a coffee "Irish with cream and sugar, Doctor," before sitting beside Chloe and passing her her favorite. She sniffed it, not detecting anything alcoholic. 

"It's virgin, Love," he promised, pulling her against him and resting his arm on her shoulders. She took a sip, not surprised when it was perfect but thanking him anyway.

"How long were you there?" She asked, wondering just how much of it he'd heard but not ashamed that he had. It wasn't like any of it was something she was unwilling for him to know. 

"Long enough," he said, looking at her with his warm dark eyes as though she were the one who had hung the stars, a contented, dazed smile on his face. "Long enough."


	10. Drunken and Starlit Talks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, not a trained therapist.

They sat in silence sipping on their coffee for a moment, Lucifer adding yet more liquor to his and taking a sip, nodding in satisfaction before turning to Linda. His expression shifted to a forced neutral that confused Chloe and there was a tension in him that hinted at anger. But why was he angry with Linda?

"So," he said, drawing the word out, and tipping his head to the side surveying her. "Do you want both of us now or just me?"

"I … uh … maybe you?" Linda said. "That way I have more information for sorting through the couple's issues."

"Excellent," Lucifer said, sitting back. "Does the Detective have to leave or may she stay? I'd like for her to stay, if she's willing."

"Up to you," Linda replied. "It is your session. If you want her to stay and give her a peek into what's on your mind I won't stop you but I do ask that you don't censor yourself for Chloe's sake. If I don't have the truth I can't help."

"Always the truth from me, Doctor. You know that," Lucifer replied, an edge to the forced brightness that made Chloe wince. She could tell that despite his pleasantries, he was seething. Either at the implication that he was dishonest or at having been dismissed earlier while she was allowed to stay, she couldn't tell but she could feel the anger rolling from him. She rubbed his knee hoping to soothe him before he snapped at Linda. She knew that he wouldn't hurt their friend physically, but he could be rather scathing when he wished and pissing off his therapist probably wasn't the best plan. But said therapist was either unaware of it or accustomed to Lucifer's temper because she looked at him calmly and didn't back down.

"You don't lie, but you are also not completely honest, Lucifer," Linda argued, holding her ground. "Maybe not even with yourself."

"How's this for honesty, Doctor? Like Chloe, I wish that I _had_ killed those men," Lucifer said his tone dark, taking her words as a challenge. "Their deaths were _entirely_ too quick and painless for what they put us through. In fact, I am taking _great_ pleasure in the fact that they are in hell. I'm even considering revisiting my old domain to ensure that they receive more _personal_ treatment from the demons. Hellloops, unpleasant as they are, are too good for them. I may even fulfill my threat and take a personal interest in their punishment. I haven't done it in eons but I am willing to rise to the occasion when the need arises and torture is _much_ more _fun_ when you don't have to worry about them dying. Souls are much more durable than human flesh. Though I am glad that I didn't kill them as well. This way I get my retribution with no risk of the wrath of Dear Old Dad. I even, possibly, get his approval for fulfilling my role as the Devil." Linda looked like she had been slapped in the face, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape as she stared at him. But Lucifer wasn't done proving his point. 

"Was that honest enough, Doctor?" he asked, a challenge in his voice now. "Or would you prefer that I regale, in _gory_ detail what _exactly_ I would like to do to them?"

"Th-that was honest enough," Linda replied, a little frantically and Lucifer scoffed and shook his head. And she wondered why he wasn't _completely_ honest with her. There were much darker thoughts in the recesses of his mind than how to best punish damned souls that had tortured him and his Detective. 

"Well, you asked me to honestly share what was on my mind and how to adequately punish the fools that made our lives the closest earthly approximation of Hell I've encountered is what's on my mind," Lucifer shrugged. "Or were you looking for something else?"

"No, I mean, it is your session and that's what's troubling you," Linda began only for Lucifer to cut her off.

"It's not troubling me, it's entertaining me," he corrected. "I'm not bothered or apologetic about my feelings towards those cretins."

"Then why are you lashing out at people?" Linda demanded. "Chloe said you almost broke someone's arm, threatened to kill someone, Maze I'm assuming, and you never try quite so hard to shock me into backing off this early into a session. Something is bothering you, what is it?" 

Lucifer was silent, glancing around the room as if looking for an escape or something to fidget with, settling finally for taking a long sip of his spiked coffee. Chloe watched his fingers play with the stirring stick and decided he might need one of those fidget cubes for moments like this. She'd have to get him one. After another sip of coffee, which he set aside to pull out his flask, Linda decided he wasn't going to answer and decided to probe.

"Is it because you broke a deal?" she asked, knowing that she was likely pushing buttons and anticipating a volatile reaction. "Do you regret what you did?"

"Never," he breathed, glancing at Chloe before looking at Linda, daring her to contradict him. "I do not, nor will I ever, regret my decision not to honor that farce of a deal. I only regret that I didn't swallow my pride and break it sooner."

"I don't blame you, Lucifer," Chloe breathed, wondering just how many times she was going to have to say it before he believed her.

"You may not but I do," Lucifer replied. "Had I listened to your advice, broken free from the chains and escaped the box truck when we were first captured then none of what followed would have happened."

"Including the good," Linda reminded him. "Yes, what you both went through was terrible, traumatic and unimaginable but had you escaped then, Cain would still be alive. He would still be a threat. And without the sacrifices that you made for each other, the gestures of love, you'd likely still be dancing around one another."

"So I should just ignore my guilt for not getting us out of that mess before we were brutalized because it worked out in the end?" Lucifer demanded and Chloe had to admit that it sounded ludicrous to her too. Had Linda not been listening while they explained it?

"No, you use the knowledge that it worked out to work through your guilt by accepting that it was, at least semi-, out of your control," she clarified. Lucifer was unimpressed. He knew firsthand how well "working through" guilt this profound worked. It didn't. And he found it quite telling that Chloe, who had been very quick to assuage his guilt about their capture itself, had gone silent when he clarified _when_ he felt remorse for. He knew she'd been angry when he'd refused, deserved to be angry, but he hadn't seen another choice at the time. Even though he later reasoned that consent under duress wasn't consent and that logic should have applied to him as well, it was too little too late.

Her voice wafted across his mind. Not a prayer but a memory from earlier ' _We did the best we could with what we had. You included. You're not all-powerful, Lucifer. Or omniscient.'_ He wondered if she felt that way about that particular facet of their imprisonment and found it even more telling when she said nothing even as the silence stretched uncomfortably between the three of them. 

"So, I will let you think about that for our next session, Lucifer," Linda said, changing the subject, knowing from experience with him that he needed time to mull it over. And would still probably come to the wrong conclusion. And then take her advice, twist it to fit his conclusion and run off. But somehow it seemed to work out and he did learn and grow so who was she to question it?

"So, Chloe, you asked for couples therapy, was there a particular issue or just general guidance?" Linda asked, knowing Lucifer wouldn't participate for a time as he worked through whatever he was thinking. His distracted expression telling her that he was perplexed by whatever was going on inside his head and needed time to come to his own conclusions before he shared. Or not. It really was a toss-up on if he'd share.

"Well, it may not be a _couple's_ issue, it may actually be a _me_ issue but … I… the idea of … I don't _like_ being separated from Lucifer," Chloe said, her words halting and growing softer as she admitted it. "And he doesn't seem… I can't speak for him but, it seems like--"

"I do not like being separated from you either," Lucifer agreed. "But I don't see that as an issue. If neither of us wishes to be separated, then why must we be? We work together. Your offspring is fond of me and I've grown more than simply tolerant of her. Why must we force something neither of us desires?"

"Separation is healthy, Lucifer," Linda said, her tone gentle. "You are two separate people with individual interests. You do share many common friends and hobbies but it is healthy to maintain separate spheres of interest as well."

"That said, it is normal to crave each other's company," she continued. "You've both been through something traumatic together, relying on one another for survival. That can cause a very tight bond and anxiety at attempts to sever it. I suggest that you give yourselves time to adjust and relax, let your bodies and minds realize that you _are_ safe and see if separation becomes easier."

"It's just … she's so _fragile,_ Doctor," Lucifer said softly. "A misplaced bullet, a driver not paying attention. There are so many things that can kill her if I'm not there. How can I leave her alone? Especially now that I know how she feels about me, knowing everything?"

"And what would you do if you were there, Lucifer?" Linda asked. "It's not like you can stop her from dying. Around her you're nearly as vulnerable."

"I can and I'm not," he corrected, chuckling at her confused expression. "My feathers. They're a 'get-out-of-death-free' card, if you will. And it seems that my invulnerability is back, regardless of her presence." 

"That's … why?" Linda asked slowly, a bit troubled by the difficulty she was having forming coherent thoughts and taking another sip of her coffee. He'd said it was spiked and she could feel the slight burn of alcohol on her tongue but she couldn't tell what he'd put in it.

"Divine ichor flows through the feathers," Lucifer explained, a bit wearily, "imbues them with the same divinity that flows through me. That's why they glow; I'm the Lightbringer. Not sure why Amenadiel's look like crow feathers since he's not the brightest by far. Remiel's look like hawk feathers because she's a huntress. Our feathers contain part of ourselves and can impart a bit of divinity when pulled before they are shed. "

"I wasn't questioning the mechanics of magic healing angel feathers," Linda said with a small grin, a bit surprised that he'd decided to share. "I've stopped trying to apply logic to your supernatural happenings, Lucifer. Thank you for explaining, though. I was more interested in when you stopped being vulnerable around Chloe. She's still a miracle. Nothing's changed."

"Everything's changed," Lucifer corrected. Linda looked at him in curiosity and he sighed, rolling his eyes. "There were no secrets in that bunker, Doctor. There were points where one or both of us could have died and we unburdened secrets appropriately. Days locked in a single room with no tele, no games and no phone; we talked. Perhaps too much. She knows more about me and my past than anyone else alive, _including_ Mazikeen because Chloe knows what I felt and thought. Something Mazikeen neither knows nor cared to ask. We have no secrets, I told her everything --even about Uriel-- and she didn't run."

"And how does that make you feel, Lucifer?" Linda asked, surprised both that he had been willing to share _everything_ and that Chloe seemed to have taken it well. His past wasn't something that they had ever really touched on, mostly due to his sarcastic, biting replies when she asked. Instead they had made a habit of making sense of the present but reading between the lines and judging by what she he _had_ said, it was a traumatic and violent thing itself. 

Then again, Chloe was a homicide detective and had probably experienced the loss of someone she felt she could have or should have saved in the line of duty. She might be uniquely able to understand and sympathize with the Devil. Linda almost snorted at the thought and wondered how Lucifer felt about the song "Sympathy for the Devil" before looking at her nearly empty coffee suspiciously. It was then that she noticed that Lucifer hadn't answered her question and was staring at her with something akin to distrust. 

"You don't want to say?" Linda repeated, her tongue feeling a bit funny. "Is it that you don't trust me? I'm Chloe's friend, your friend and your therapist. I don't want to see either of you hurt and I already know that you love her even if you won't admit it to yourself."

They both looked at her a little confused and she wondered if that hadn't been one of the secrets that he'd shared but he said she knew everything, they were sexually intimate and she'd warned him when he let Chloe stay that this could happen. She reached for her coffee to finish it laughing in confusion when it took a couple times to grab it. She tried again and knocked it over, Lucifer's deft fingers plucking it from the air before it spilled. He grinned down at her in fond amusement while Chloe looked concerned. 

"She's slurring. She's uncoordinated. Sould I call an ambulance?" she asked, coming to kneel on the ground in front of Linda. "Smile for me, Linda. Big smile." Linda tried but ended up laughing at the serious expression on Chloe's face as she demanded a smile. Chloe turned to Lucifer, "no facial drop, but has she had a stroke?"

"On the contrary," he said with a laugh. "I believe the good doctor is drunk. I thought you held your liquor better than this. I wouldn't have been so heavy on the pour."

"What'd you put in it?" Chloe asked, sniffing it and smelling coffee and cream. 

"About a quarter of that cup full of 190 proof Everclear," he said with a shrug. "She said she wanted it strong and that's less than I would have used in my own."

"Plus half a bottle of tequila," Chloe sighed shaking her head. "Has anyone moved in with you, Linda?" The therapist shook her own head. "You'll have to come home with me, then. Can't have you passing out at home and dying of alcohol poisoning. Up you get." Linda nodded, surprisingly bidable as Lucifer and Chloe led her out the door and into Chloe's car. 

* * *

Later that evening, Lucifer and Chloe stood on her porch, him drinking and toying with his cigarette case and her sipping a tea. Linda was safely tucked into bed in Maze's room, the demon having promised not to let her die or take advantage of her drunken state, Trixie was in her room and they were enjoying the quiet night. 

"I'm sorry that I assumed you just couldn't control yourself," Chloe said suddenly. "I should have known better." He let out a self-deprecating huff of a laugh.

"I'm the Devil, Chloe," he replied with a shrug. "Instant gratification is semi-synonymous. And it's not as if I have made a habit of denying myself anything on Earth in the years you've known me. Drugs, women, men, alcohol, orgies. You can be forgiven for assuming that my self control is sorely lacking."

"I still should have known better," she argued. "You showed unbelievable restraint this past week. More than I think I could have. More than I would have thought anyone could."

"I had the right motivation," he said, setting down his glass to stroke her cheek with his thumb. She sighed, wishing again that his love for her hadn't been used against him. He looked at her, his warm brown eyes repentant before he said, "I do wish to offer you an apology. It will never be enough and I will spend the rest of your life trying to make it up to you but I do apologize that I failed to take your advice. In the box truck. I _should_ have freed us, damn the consequences and returned with a hellhound and a legion of demons if that's what it took to bring Cain to heel. I could have done it, if only I would have shelved my damned pride."

"You are allowed to have convictions, Lucifer," Chloe sighed, reaching up to stroke his cheek and following after him as he turned his head away, her fingers carding through his beard. "You don't lie or break deals. That's to be admired. Honesty is a noble trait."

"But foolishness isn't," Lucifer countered. "That was hardly a binding deal, really. It was dubiously consented at best. It was foolish to put my pride before logic."

"I still don't blame you," she said with a shrug. "Don't get me wrong, I did blame you. I was pissed at you. The Devil I had seen throw grown men through walls refusing to attempt an escape from a flimsy box truck thereby rendering himself unable to escape. I was pissed."

"What changed?" he asked softly, appreciating her honesty on a matter she had been reluctant to discuss.

"I made an even worse and more poorly thought out deal with lower stakes at risk and while I wasn't in excruciating pain," she said with a shrug. He hummed before huffing a sad parody of a laugh. 

"We make quite the pair, don't we?" He asked stepping into her space but leaving her room to escape, if she wished. She didn't, instead closing the distance and enveloping him in a hug, her golden head resting on his chest. His arms came around her and she nodded.

"We do," she agreed. "We just need to learn to listen when the other says we're being stupid. Ignoring one another's instincts and ideas has gotten us nothing but trouble."

"No more of that then," he said brightly. "Partners?" He could almost feel her smile even before she nodded and changed the subject.

"You didn't tell her about that thing with your dad," she said pulling back a bit to look up at him but not breaking the hug. "Why?"

"It wasn't the time," he said shrugging but she could tell there was more to it than that. "The Doctor was already having difficulty coping with what we had told her. Which, admittedly, was alot to handle. And despite how helpful she's been over the years I am beginning to doubt her expertise. Some of the things she said today make me wonder if she's ever known me at all."

"How long did it take you to get coffee?" she asked, her gut sinking with the realization that he had somehow heard Linda accuse him of beating her. 

"I wasn't out of hearing range yet," he replied. "I suppose you should know, since we're together and not locked in a privacy-less bunker, my hearing is far superior to any human's. And I may have drug my feet a bit to eavesdrop. I wondered why she kicked me out and, how could she think that, Chloe?"

His tone was so filled with hurt at the end she could feel her own eyes tearing. He pulled back, pacing a moment before coming back, his long fingers brushing feather-light along the skin that had been marred by "bruises." The slight scrape of his short nails on the sensitive flesh on the inside of her wrist sending shivers down her spine. The shiver turned to heat as he pressed a kiss to the spot where her veins crossed on both wrists. He followed suit with each place he'd painted a bruise that morning as if he needed to soothe away hurts that never were.

"How could she think that?" He repeated, looking at Chloe with an expression that was so profoundly lost that she couldn't resist pulling him down into a hug. His tall frame bent awkwardly to allow him to rest his head on her shoulder as she stroked his hair. She couldn't answer the question that was clearly troubling him. 

"I don't know, Lucifer," she said sadly. "You'll have to ask her. I know you never would. I trust you. Completely."

"Do you though?" he asked pulling away to pace again, the blatant pain of moments before shifting to agitation. "In my car earlier you asked if I could kill Maze then what could I do to you. That doesn't sound like trust."

"I was disturbed!"

"By me," he clarified. "I disturbed you. Because I'm the Devil."

"Yes, you disturbed me!" She snapped, watching as his face contorted in anguish and grabbing his wrist before he could run. "But not because you're the Devil. You'd just threatened to kill your oldest _friend_ for me. That's not normal, Lucifer." He didn't look soothed but he hadn't pulled from her grip.yet so she took it as a good sign, and then his expression softened. It shifted to something resigned and almost ruefully sorry.

"It is in Hell," he replied with a shrug. "You kill those who hurt those you care about most. Even if you have history with them. I've killed for Mazikeen and she for me. "

"We're not in Hell, Lucifer," she sighed, knowing that eons of conditioning wouldn't vanish overnight or possibly at all. "This is Earth. It's against the rules. Celestial rules even. 'Thou shalt not kill' ring a bell?"

"You know Moses made those up, right?" He said with a small smile. "Dad had nothing to do with that. Population control, the lot of it." Her unamused expression revealed his change of subject to be unwelcome so instead he sighed. "Fine, I will endeavor not to kill or threaten our friends for harming you. Strangers and other miscreants are fair game though."

"Deal," Chloe agreed. "And play-threatening doesn't count. From what I've heard half of your interactions with Maze are pretend threats. And if the pretending gets a bit rough, my deal doesn't prohibit you from defending yourself. I don't want you hurt." 

"And if she makes a concerted attempt on you or the child?" Lucifer asked suddenly, as if he'd only just realized that his promise prohibited him from defending her in that situation.

"She won't," Chloe said with certainty. Maze was no more of a risk to them than Lucifer was. His raised eyebrow suggested that it wasn't a good enough answer. "If she does, then do what you have to do to keep us safe," Chloe said, hating herself for semi-sanctioning her roommate's potential death. But Maze would never attack her with intent so that was irrelevant. Even so, she felt suddenly exhausted, the moral greys of laying ground rules for a relationship with the Devil taking their toll on her fortitude. Even the reminder to herself that Lucifer and Maze did play by different moralities was growing taxing. 

"You look tired, Chloe," Lucifer said suddenly. "Perhaps we should retire. Am I invited back in or do I need to return to Lux?" He clearly didn't like the other option but it was equally clear that he would abide by her decision. Or maybe he didn't want to stay. Their conversation had gotten a little heated and running from emotional confrontation wasn't outside his normal behavior.

"It's your choice," she offered. "I would like for you to stay but what do you desire?"

"Let's go to bed, love," he said, for once, the words carrying no innuendo. The lack of carnal promise did not translate to a lack of carnal delivery. When they were together under her sheets and Chloe's gentle petting took a more amorous turn, he met her desire for desire. And while not the frantic, passionate thing she had once imagined either, the slow, sweet exploration and care they showed for one another while making love was a better apology than any they had uttered. 


	11. The Morning After and Atrocious Culinary Upbringing

Chloe awoke the next morning to the smell of bacon and coffee. The bed beside her was empty but she didn't need to check to know who was cooking. She had no doubt Lucifer was making breakfast. Maze didn't cook. Trixie was still too little to make bacon. Linda was probably too hung over to find it appealing which just left Lucifer. And it wouldn't be the first time he'd cooked her breakfast, though it would be the first time he hadn't broken in to do so. 

As she stumbled into the kitchen, she was surprised to see him in a different outfit than the one he'd been wearing. Yesterday had been a classic black and white affair, today he was in a turquoise blue shirt and dove grey suit pants, the matching jacketto which was hung on his chair. It wouldn't've been her first choice for frying bacon, even with the sleeves rolled up as they were, but it was particularly attractive. 

"Morning, love," he called without turning to face her. "Have a seat. Food's almost ready."

"You're rather chipper this morning," she said, pouring coffee and following instructions. "What gives?"

"He got laid," Maze said, walking from her room and grabbing a mug herself. She nipped to the liquor cabinet and poured a rather generous amount in before adding coffee. "I would think you would know. Unless it wasn't you he did."

"Actually I think it was me that got done, Maze," Lucifer chimed in. "The Detective was quite assertive in her apology despite her assertation that make-up sex would not be offered. And what they say is right, make-up sex may be as good as angry sex. Maybe even more satisfying."

"Nah," Maze disagreed. "I've had both. Pissed off fucking is the best kind. So raw, so _primal_ . A carnal struggle for dominance with, usually, minimal bloodshed. Much better than the other. That's just too full of _feelings_ and sometimes they cry. No, give me a good angry fuck any day."

"Guys, we can't be arguing this here," Chloe cut off any retort Lucifer was planning. "There is a child living here. You can discuss it when she's at school or elsewhere. Maze, we've already set Trixie-related ground rules but I guess we need to revisit as a group."

"There are other, more fun, things we can do as a group," Maze suggested, licking her lips provocatively.

"I'll bet _that's_ against the rules," Lucifer said, setting his and Chloe's plates down and putting a tall glass of water and two white pills in front of one of the unoccupied chairs. He paused a moment, considering, before making a third plate and handing it to Mazikeen. 

"Everything fun is," Maze complained. "No knife-play in the common areas. No orgies. No drugs. No blatant drinking. No sex swings as furniture. Granny-panties Decker is no fun." Lucifer hummed sympathetically. That was no fun. And Maze was willing submitting to it. Perhaps he didn't have to threaten her after all. If she would tolerate those rules, Chloe was more than likely right that Maze wouldn't harm her. 

"She made rules for you yet?” Maze demanded, her expression far more eager than such a simple question merited in Chloe’s opinion. 

"Apparently no discussing sex at breakfast," he said with a shrug. "And no threatening you without probable cause. Oh, and no randomly popping into existence without assuring she is not in a crowd first."

"That's it?" Maze demanded. "What about the other bans? The drinking, drugs, orgies and general debauchery?"

"Hasn't come up," he said, taking a bite of his eggs. "But Cain was _decidedly_ stingy in the drugs and alcohol department. Bastard even took my flask. And you can't have an orgy with two people. Not that there weren't others around but even I have standards and they certainly didn’t make the cut. I don't know where she stands on that now."

"I mean … if it's something you desire, I shouldn't stop you," Chloe said softly, wishing she had had time to think through her own feelings on the matter before Maze and Lucifer put her on the spot. She wasn’t bothered by the things, and people, he had done in the past because that was the past but she wasn’t sure how she felt about him continuing to do them. He had teased her more than once about her puritanical views of sex and sexuality but he was right. Group sex was something she was not comfortable with and likely would never be, but was it fair or reasonable of her to hold him to her morals? She’d always known that Lucifer wasn’t the white picket fences, 2.5 kids, a cat and a dog type. Nor was he monogamous. And she had known it going in. Even if she couldn’t participate, she couldn’t demand that he not. It wouldn’t be fair. 

Decided, she nodded biting her lip before she spoke again,"It's not something that I want but if you still do… I know many of your favors were sexual in nature and if you need to keep up your end, well monogamy is mostly for guaranteeing parentage and prevention of disease, which you're immune to so it's not like the normal rules apply. Like with the alcohol and drugs. They won't kill you. And you can charm your way out of legal consequences just … not around Trixie, ok? And I’d rather not walk in on it, please."

"What she means to say is that she's uncomfortable with it but won't hold you to her morals," Linda added, sitting at the table, holding her head and looking miserable. "What are--"

"Advil," Lucifer supplied, pushing the pills a bit closer. "And water. I hear it helps." She nodded, taking the pills and downing the cup before refilling it and drinking that one as well. She filled the glass a second time, coming back to sit. 

"What happened?" She asked. "We were having a session and then I was drunk. Why was I drunk?"

"A triple shot of Everclear in your coffee," Chloe answered, fond exasperation in her tone. "Courtesy of Lucifer, who assured me it was less than he would have used for his."

"That'd do it," Linda nodded, wincing as Trixie's shrill voice cut through the air and she launched herself at her mother and the Devil, Chloe greeting her warmly and Lucifer patting her awkwardly saying, "yes, good morning, Child. Now off to your seat and I'll make you a plate." 

It was the first interaction she had witnessed between him and Chloe's daughter and, even hungover, it was interesting. He was clearly both fond of and perplexed by her. She seemed to make him uncomfortable but he sought her out, even putting nutella on her pancakes with a conspiratorial wink. And she seemed to adore him. It would be interesting to get his perspective on their relationship during his next session. If there was a next. She had a feeling it wasn't entirely on accident that he'd gotten her drunk.

* * *

After breakfast, Maze gave Linda a ride back to her office after the therapist vehemently refused Lucifer's offer to "pop her over there." She didn't think that teleportation would help her headache. Also, despite the fact that he had given her water and meds, probably as an apology for his part in her hangover, she could tell he was still irritated with her and she knew a Lucifer tirade would not help her headache. Maze also had the added benefit of riding a bike, the cool air might help to clear Linda's head. 

Once they were gone, Trixie, Lucifer and Chloe were left at the dining room table on their own. Chloe gathered the dishes, figuring that it was only fair for her to wash up as he’d cooked, and listened to her daughter and the devil bicker over the relative merits of nutella, jelly, syrup (maple versus sugar-based), molasses and peanut butter as pancake toppings. 

“Child,” Lucifer was saying, “you cannot possibly defend sugar syrup over maple syrup. There is absolutely no comparison.”

“Yeah, because sugar syrup’s like 1000 times better,” Trixie argued. “That maple stuff is too thin and not sweet enough. Nope, maple syrup, molasses and jelly do not belong on pancakes.” 

“Do you hear this, Darling?” Lucifer demanded. “You are raising a savage. And let me guess, Spawn, macaroni and cheese comes from a box?” 

“A blue one,” Trixie agreed brightly. “It's the cheesiest.” She laughed as he groaned theatrically, resting his head in his hands.

“Has she ever even had _real_ macaroni and cheese?” he asked, sounding far more distraught over it than Chloe felt the situation warranted. 

“I don’t think so,” Chloe said with a shrug. “I don’t know that I have more than once or twice either. I was raised on the box stuff. It’s what I’ve always made. And it’s not like my job is exactly set up to let me make homemade mac and cheese. It’s not that big a deal. She’ll survive this.” 

“It’s a bloody travisty,” he countered. “ one we will remedy this evening. I will make homemade macaroni and cheese for dinner. Urchin, white or yellow cheese?”

“Um, I think all cheese is yellow, Lucifer,” Trixie said. Which earned another groan. 

“Cheese comes in many colors and textures, Child,” he said with a long-suffering sigh. "I suppose I will make both to complete your education. I know that you will desire chocolate for dessert, but what protein would please you?”

“Pork chops,” Trixie replied instantly. “But not the ones with the bones. Mommy always buys the ones with the bones.” 

“Pork tenderloin it is,” he agreed. “Why would you choose the ones with the bones, Chloe?” 

“They’re usually cheaper, Lucifer,” Chloe replied, embarrassed to explain to him that she chose food based on cost. “And you don’t have to do this. She may not eat it anyway.” 

"I know I don't have to do it," he agreed brightly. "I want to do it. Allow me to care for you both. And broaden some dreadfully narrow horizons. Now, are we eating here or at Lux?"

"Do you even have a kitchen?" She asked, genuinely curious. The mock hurt expression on his face made her laugh.

"Darling, I am appalled," he said. "The penthouse is my _home_ and homes involve food which requires a kitchen. Of course I have a kitchen. Top of the line, even."

"Of course it is," she laughed. "How could I have expected less? I just haven't ever seen it. And as you know, seeing is believing."

"In that case, I will cook you dinner at my home," he said simply, his pride a bit wounded. "Child, do you wish to learn or merely consume?" At Trixie's confused expression, Chloe chimed in.

"So you want to help him cook, Monkey?" she translated. "Or are we going to make him do all the work and just eat."

"I do like to cook," Trixie said softly. "But Mommy won't let me near the stove. There's only so much I can do that doesn't involve stoves or knives. And she doesn't like me playing with those either. Maze doesn't mind, though." Lucifer looked at Chloe who shrugged. If he was keeping an eye on her, the chance of her getting burned was near zero with his reflexes. 

"Well, Child, I believe this is a case of 'my house, my rules'," he said conspiratorially. "Your mother did approve it and I will never knowingly go against her wishes but a few rules can be bent in my home. But your mother's word is law, do you understand, Beatrice?" She nodded and he grinned wildly. Perhaps cooking with the child would be fun.

* * *

Cooking with the child was decidedly not fun. He was beginning to think Chloe's ban on her cooking was more for her sanity than Beatrice's protection. After a grocery trip that involved far too many lonely housewives and desperate people flocking to him for attention until he dialed up the otherness to put them off, he was wishing he'd just had the groceries delivered. But no matter how much he'd offered them, same day delivery was unavailable. Maze had reminded him that she wasn't his maid, Patrick was busy and Lux didn't carry cheese in the quantity necessary. Chloe had offered to go but refused to take his money and he refused to allow her to pay for the dinner he had planned. And he wasn't entirely comfortable with her going out alone and leaving him with the child and no way to leave if something went wrong with Chloe.

In the end, they'd gone together. Which, truly, had been most of his frustration with his audience-seekers. Their crowding of himself, the detective and her child made both him and Chloe anxious and that could not be allowed to continue. Not when he could so easily stop it.

"How do you do that?" she asked as he perused the paltry selection of cheeses. "Attract or drive people off?"

"The attraction is that I'm a Celestial," he said with a shrug. "Devil, angel, it doesn't matter. Dad designed humanity to be awed and attracted to us. Fallen or not, that desire is still there."

"And the repulsion?" She asked, eying a woman stopped four feet away looking like she wanted to get to the lunch meat but couldn't find a way over the level tiles. "You once told me you couldn't turn the mojo off. This right now and what you did at the precinct seemed pretty turned off."

"It's not turned off," he said, choosing a few blocks of cheese and moving off, the poor woman almost stumbling as his aura faded from her area.

"It's more like a magnet," he explained. "My celestial magnetism can either attract humans or repel them. I can adjust the strength a bit, fine tune a few exceptions but the overall effect remains. Even dialed down as low as possible, it will still attract the weak willed and the desperate. On high, I could tempt Mother Theresa."

"Why do I feel like you actually know that?" Chloe sighed, grabbing a box of shell pasta.

"She was a delightful woman," Lucifer replied, "if a bit too hung up on what Dear Old Dad wanted." Chloe nodded but chose not to ask just how intimately he had known her. Both for the Mother's reputation and for the impressionable ears. They soon escaped the market, a small crowd flocking to them again much to Lucifer's chagrin when he'd had to dial it back and reverse polarity again for the poor cashier. 

The drive to Lux was uneventful, as was the ride up the private elevator to the penthouse. But as he stood there watching the child try to grate cheese he understood why Chloe was reluctant to allow her to help. 

"Child, we need semi-uniform pieces so that they melt at approximately the same rate," he was explaining as she alternately grated long and short strings. 

"Then why didn't we buy shredded?" Trixie asked, looking at him like it was the simplest answer possible. "Those are all the same size. And this keeps sticking to the thing and I'm worried I'm going to get my finger."

"Shredded cheese is coated to prevent it from sticking and it changes the flavor palate," Lucifer attempted to educate. "Whole block cheese shredded in a kitchen is the best choice."

"What about one of those cool spinning graters like at Olive Garden?" She asked. "Wouldn't that work better than this?"

"This cheese is a different texture and would clog the machine, Urchin," he sighed. "Here, stir this so it doesn't scald and I'll do that." She nodded and moved to the pot of milk he was slowly bringing to a boil while he made quick work of the cheese blocks. That done, he let her assist him in adding the cheese before taking over the stirring to ensure the cheese wouldn't stick. When the sauce melted and was seasoned, he tossed the pasta and put it in a dish to bake. 

Only then did he turn his attention to the promised chocolate dessert, brownies. As he pulled the flour from the cupboard, Trixie looked at him like he'd lost his mind. 

"What is it now, Heathen?" he sighed.

"Brownies aren't white, Lucifer," she said. "You said we were making brownies and they come out of the box brown. Not white." He stared at her incredulously before rubbing a hand over his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Your mother and I are going to have to discuss your atrocious culinary upbringing," he said finally. "Watch and learn, Child. Watch and learn."


	12. Trying for "normal" and failing

After dinner, which the child had begrudgingly admitted was better than the blue box, they settled in to watch movies on his couch once more. Or, rather, Chloe and Trixie did. Lucifer had disappeared into his bedroom and come out dressed and styled in his usual manner, trading the dove grey suit for a more traditional black one with a red dress shirt and black waistcoat with red-gold embroidery. Chloe looked at him in curiosity, having expected him to come back in his robe, not a different suit. He seemed to understand her unspoken question because he smiled warmly at her. 

"I'm just going to nip down to Lux for a bit, darlings," he told them. "It helps business if I show my face occasionally. Don't worry, I won't be bringing company back up. If you get peckish, there are leftovers in the kitchen or you may order out. Even if you insist on paying, which I wish you wouldn't, use my name. You'll be surprised what little extras you can get."

"Feel free to help yourselves to anything you like," he continued. "And, Chloe, love, if nothing from the bar tickles your fancy just pop down and Damien will make you anything you like. Or call down and they'll deliver. If you do decide to explore, which I fully condone, I  _ highly  _ recommend that the second chest of drawers on the right hand side of my closet not be opened with company," this last was said with a pointed look at Trixie who was oblivious to them as she scrolled for movies.

"You have a whole dresser?" Chloe asked in shock, realizing that his unexpected subtlety was entirely for her sake. "Most people have a drawer or a box. Not a dresser."

"I'm not most people, darling," he said with a salacious grin. "So, I won't be too late, but make yourselves at home. See you in a bit. Pray if you need me. I doubt I’ll hear my phone." With that he left down the elevator. Chloe felt her chest clinch uncomfortably at his absence before trying to push down the feeling. They were two seperate people who needed to be able to have separate lives. She couldn’t go chasing after him if he was able to leave. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, reminding herself that they were home and safe. Marcus was dead. No one was after them. She was in Lucifer’s home and he was a prayer away, invulnerable to harm and in a crowded club where no one was trying to kill them. Despite the reminders, her heart still beat uncomfortably against the confines of her ribs and she felt the inescapable need to move. 

She eyed the balcony before deciding that it offered too little stimulation to distract her. After a quick check to make sure Trixie was occupied, Chloe went to explore that infamous dresser. She was only able to peek in each drawer, both a bit overwhelmed at the assortment and concerned that Trixie would come looking for her to explore fully. She shook her head as she closed the bottom drawer, full of what was clearly bondage equipment, wondering just what she had gotten herself into. 

* * *

On the ride down the elevator, Lucifer felt conflicted. He hadn’t lied when he said that he needed to visit the club occasionally. A safe atmosphere wasn’t the only draw Lux possessed; he knew that some of the patrons came just for his attention. But even as much as he knew and craved that, people seeing him as a positive thing, it was almost easier to be with Chloe and the Urchin. They didn’t expect Lucifer the entertainer and lover, just him. And he could protect them better from beside them. The moment the doors had closed, he had itched to return to them. But, he remembered Chloe and Linda’s words, their reminders that separation was good and healthy and he did miss his club. 

While a large part of him longed to hit the penthouse button the moment the elevator stopped at the club, he resisted it. Yes, he was still uncomfortable without his detective right beside him where he could assure himself of her safety, but if she insisted that they had to attempt separation, his home was the best place. Everyone knew his reputation for retaliation, even if they didn’t believe he was the Devil. None would dare harm what he had claimed as his in his own home. They were safe even if he wasn't directly beside them. Or so he tried to convince himself as he stepped into the dim, pulsing environment of Lux, the heady scent of liquor, sweat and desire filling his lungs and wrapping around his senses.

For the first time in over a week, Lucifer stood at the balcony taking a moment to survey the club, breathing in the unique smell of Lux. Though not quite as full as he’d expected there was still quite the assortment of people. Glancing around he wondered just what day of the week it was. Clearly a weeknight but he wasn’t sure which one. Not that it really mattered since neither he nor the detective had anywhere to be for the next two weeks. It would still be beneficial to know but not relevant at the moment. As the bass pulsing from the speakers resonated in his chest he released a breath, tension bleeding from his shoulders he didn’t realize he’d been holding. More than anything else, this solidified it for him; he was home. What Chloe had said was true. He did love this place. All those desires ready on the surface for him to meet or not as he chose. All the lowered inhibitions. The freedom.

He knew that Lux was known on the party circuit as a place where anything was allowed as long as everyone involved consented, with private rooms available if needed. And he loved it. To be a haven of the pure exercise of free will in a city filled with stage personas, actors, special effects and paparazzi prepared to exploit indiscretions. To allow these people a sanctuary in which to exercise the freedom of choice, something he had so long been denied, sacrificed his family for, it gave him pleasure. Yes, the sex and and sensuality and the beautiful people were also a draw for him but they were more of a perk. Much like the free liquor. But the exercise of freedom; oh, how he had missed this.

As he moved through the club, mingling and entertaining he felt some of his stress melting away. It was suddenly almost easier to be down here than upstairs. Down here no one expected him to  _ behave _ . He wasn’t expected to censure himself for little ears. Inuendo and outright sexual comments were expected, not merely tolerated. There was the freedom to have adult conversations about adult subjects if he so chose, and more than one of his patrons wished that he would choose. Lingering glances and heated touches told him as much. And he was more than happy to talk, to encourage, to draw out desires for them to act upon. 

Even so, when one of the more bold women came up to him at the bar, running her hand brazenly down his cheek, he leaned into the touch turning to face her only to be disappointed to see brown eyes rather than blue. He looked her over appreciatively, surprised when he felt no draw to someone who was clearly a willing partner. She was undeniably attractive but her eyes, more than being the wrong color, were missing something. The appropriate lust and desire were there but something he couldn't name was missing.

“Aren’t you handsome,” she purred, leaning into his space. She was undeniably beautiful, in the typical LA fashion. Heavy makeup under bottle red hair that looked expensively done with many colors of both high and low lights, a dress she’d been just this side of poured into that showed off her rather splendid assets to perfection. And clearly seeking attention and a good time. A week ago, he would have taken her upstairs in a heartbeat, but his heart wasn’t in it tonight, company upstairs notwithstanding. 

“I am,” he agreed, surprising himself with his lack of enthusiasm. “And you’re quite lovely as well, darling, but I am afraid I am not looking for that kind of company this evening. Perhaps that nice looking chap over there?” He gestured to a man who had been watching their exchange with heartbreak in his eyes. 

“Kevin? He’s just a friend,” she said. “Offered to come with me as a chaperone in case I got too wasted.”

“And you are. Well, wasting an opportunity, that is,” Lucifer replied. “He desires you. I know, darling. I’m the Devil. I can see desire a mile away.”

“He said he doesn’t,” she said, sounding a bit dejected about it herself. It was then that he could feel a desire simmering just under the surface and couldn’t resist asking, “Tell me, darling, what is it  _ you _ desire?”

“A quiet life,” she replied instantly. “Away from all of this. To settle down with a nice man, maybe him. You know, have a few kids. Not worry about looking hot. Just have someone who loves me for me, not how I look.”

“Go talk to the chap, then” Lucifer suggested. “Tell him what you just told me. See where that gets you. There’s a dear.” He watched with a small smile as she walked over to Kevin and told the man what she’d just told Lucifer. Instantly Kevin was out of his seat, kissing her passionately. When they came up for air and she hugged him, Kevin looked at Lucifer over her shoulder mouthing ‘thank you.’ Lucifer merely lifted his glass and nodded. 

While he was pleased for them, it felt a bit odd. He had done them a favor without them asking and he expected no repayment since no deal had been struck. Maze would say he was going soft. And she might be right. Never before had he done something like that without expecting recompense. Though apparently he was good at it. Maybe that should be his new side-gig; Lucifer’s Matchmaking Service, couples handpicked by the Devil himself. Couples made in hell? He’d pin it down later.

* * *

Eventually even Lucifer’s massive closet ceased to entertain her, though she did have to admit that he had an obscene shoe collection. He didn’t do anything by halves, did he? She wondered just what else the penthouse had hidden being as she didn’t even know that he had a kitchen. And he had said that she could explore if she wanted. She was curious but she also wanted to spend time with Trixie. The second desire won out and she moved back to the couch to sit next to her daughter, who instantly melted into her. She rested her cheek on Trixie’s dark hair inhaling the familiar strawberry smell of her shampoo. 

As she stroked along her back she realized that Trixie had either grown or lost weight recently, her little bones more prominent than they had been. She had eaten well the past couple of days and her clothes weren’t too short. She wondered if that week had taken more of a toll on Trixie than she’d realized. She shifted a bit to try to get more comfortable, attempting to move Trixie’s bony elbow from her liver. But her daughter thought she was trying to get up and Trixie’s fingers reflexively tightened on her sides, wordlessly refusing to allow her to move.

“Oh, baby,” Chloe sighed, kicking off her shoes and moving them so that her back was against the arm rest and Trixie was coiled in her lap, a more difficult feat than she had anticipated with her daughter’s gangly limbs. She shushed her, cradling her like the child she still was, allowing her to cling and cry. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Chloe promised. “It’s okay.”

“But it almost wasn’t,” she sobbed. “You were gone and I was scared. I missed you and thought I’d never see you again.”

“I came back,” Chloe assured her. “I’m back and I will do everything I can to stay back. You know that, right, baby?” 

“You almost weren’t,” Trixie breathed. “If Lucifer was scared then it was bad. If he was scared and you were scared, then you almost weren’t back.” For a brief moment, Chloe considered lying. She thought about telling Trixie that it wasn’t that bad and that she always knew they would get free and come home, but she couldn’t bring herself to lie. Not about something this big.

“We almost weren’t,” she agreed. “I was so worried that I would never see you again. That was the worst part of it. None of it was nice and I might tell you about it some day when you’re older but wondering if I would ever see you again was the worst part. And there were times I thought I wouldn’t. But I did. And Marcus is dead and can’t ever kidnap me or hurt us again.”

“What if someone else does?” Trixie asked. “You’ve been shot before.That bad man kidnapped me. Shot Lucifer. Tried to shoot you. You were poisoned. No one would tell me the truth but I could tell. You almost died, Mommy. And now this. What if next time you don’t come back.”

“Oh, Baby, I’ll always come back,” she breathed, knowing it to be the truth. “And there won’t be a next time. No one will ever successfully kidnap me again. Or shoot me, most likely.” 

“You can’t know that!” Trixie argued, rasing up to glare at her for her perceived lie. “Did Grandpa think he wasn’t going to come home that night? Does anybody? What if you or Daddy don’t come home.”

“I can’t speak for your Daddy but I won’t be killed in the line of duty, Beatrice,” Chloe promised. “And I will see what I can do to assure that your Daddy won’t be either.”

“You can’t know that!” Trixie snapped, pushing to her feet to glare at her mother. “Don’t lie to me, Mommy. You can’t promise me that you won’t die. You don’t have control of that. Don’t lie to me.”

“I can’t promise it,” Chloe agreed. “I  _ don’t  _ have control of that. But you know who can nearly guarantee it and  _ has  _ made that promise? Lucifer. He has promised me that an accident or a murderer won’t take me from you.”

“He promised?” Trixie asked, knowing just what it meant that he promised something. Her brown eyes turned from fearful to shrewd as she studied her mother. “Did he  _ tell _ you that he promised it or just  _ hinted _ that he did?”

“He told me,” Chloe said. Trixie was mildly appeased and returned to her mother’s side. 

“What if he’s not with you?” she asked softly, leaning her dark head against her mother’s chest, listening to her heartbeat. The heartbeat that had been her first sound and something she had almost never heard again.

“He can teleport, Monkey,” Chloe reminded her, petting her again. “He can be anywhere he wants to be whenever he wants to be there. Instantly. And you know that he can heal almost anything. What could kill me if he’s guarding me?” 

“What if you can’t call him?” Trixie asked, wanting the particulars before she believed that her mother would be safe from harm in her dangerous job. “What if there’s no signal or it’s broken.”

“Then I can pray,” Chloe responded, petting her hair from her eyes before kissing her forehead. “He can hear prayers, you know? All you have to do is direct a thought his way and he hears it. But, it is apparently very invasive for you and should only be used in emergencies. Do you understand, Monkey? If you are worried for your life or safety and pray for help, he will come to you no matter where you are..”

“So I should still direct my nightly ones to God?” she asked. “The ones to keep you and daddy and Grandma and Lucifer and Maze safe?” Chloe almost laughed at the knowledge that her daughter was praying to God to protect the Devil and a demon but kept it to a quiet chuckle and a smile.

“Yes, Baby,” she agreed, the laugh coloring the words. “And any prayers for extravagant gifts.” Even though Chloe had to admit that Lucifer was more likely to provide her daughter with things like a pony than God, she didn’t want her thinking that every whim needed to be fulfilled. Trixie nodded and relaxed into Chloe’s hold. It wasn’t long before her breathing evened out and her limbs went slack. With a shake of her head, Chloe realized that she was asleep. As she looked at the nine year-old sprawled across her chest and lap she wondered if she could move her to the guestroom or if she should just try to scoot out from under her and leave her on the couch. She decided to sit there and enjoy her daughter’s warmth and closeness for a bit. It was only when she felt the call of nature that she shimmied out from under Trixie and made her way to Lucifer’s bathroom. 

She was halfway through the closet when she heard the elevator door ding. She was a bit surprised that he was back already but was on a quest and he could wait just a bit. Upon returning from the bathroom, she could hear Trixie and a female voice talking in the living room. Her heart dropped at the realization that there was someone in the penthouse with her and Trixie and it wasn’t Lucifer or Maze. 

Chloe was only frozen in shock for a millisecond before she was in motion.  _ There’s someone here _ , she prayed to Lucifer before she had cleared his closet, coming into the doorway wishing that she still had access to her gun. Not that if it was Lucifer’s family the gun would help but it would make her feel better. 

* * *

Lucifer was down in the club, sitting at the piano, about to perform a brief set before retiring for the night. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of his fingers moving across the keys, drawing sound from the instrument. He played a few fragments of melodies before he decided on a tune. He smiled in contentment as the music swirled in the air around him, the revelers in the club quiet and watching. He felt peace rise within him as he raised his voice in song, the melody seeming to rise from his very core.

He had finished the first and was moving into a second when his voice froze in his throat, dissonant chords striking as raw terror laced through him causing his heart to race and his breath to hitch. He was confused for a moment before Chloe's frantic voice wafted through his mind,  _ There's someone here. _ Her secondary terror faded under the wave of his own dread, his sight diming briefly and his limbs going cold. Someone was with them and he wasn't. A million terrible scenarios flashed through his mind and it took every ounce of his will to not teleport to his home. 

  
Only the knowledge that Chloe was right about the chaos revealing divinity to a packed club would cause stayed his impulse. Standing and delivering a quick apology, he signaled the D.J. to resume normal operations before making his way towards the elevator at a quick human pace that grated against his already raw temper. Even as the crowd parted to allow him through it wasn’t enough. He  _ needed  _ to get there more quickly. But he couldn’t. He was already pushing the boundaries of what he should be capable of doing. Once the elevator doors closed, it was only the knowledge that his wings wouldn't fit that kept them contained as the normally rapid lift crawled upward with all the haste of a bloody sloth. He fought to control his anxiety as he breathed a prayer he knew she wouldn't hear, "please be alright."


	13. Unexpected Company

Chloe stood with her back against the stone of his bedroom door for a moment, trying to calm her panic and get a position on the intruder without giving away her own position. It sounded like there was only one, a woman, and her voice was near Trixie’s who was still coming from the area where the couch sat. The woman sounded amused. Trixie didn’t sound distressed. Chloe felt some of the panic dissipate at the knowledge that her daughter wasn’t being harmed at the moment and took a final fortifying breath before coming around the corner with her body turned sideways to present a smaller target. Not that it mattered if it was one of Lucifer’s siblings. 

She froze as both the people in the room turned to look at her in curiosity. Their unexpected guest was clearly one of the clubbers, dressed to the nines in a glittery silver dress that barely covered any of her. Probably one of the Britneys.Trixie was kneeling backwards on the sofa, her arms on the back and had clearly been talking to the woman before Chloe burst into the room. Feeling a bit awkward now that it was clear that the woman was no threat, Chloe rubbed her own arm offering her a small smile.

“Hi,” she said, wanting to smack herself the second it left her mouth.

“Hello,” the other woman replied, offering her a small wave. “I … this is awkward. I was planning to surprise Lucifer but I didn’t know he had company. Not that I mind company but … well, she’s a bit young for the surprise I had planned.”

Chloe laughed, feeling her tension drain at the reality that the woman was not a threat to her and Trixie. Just one of Lucifer’s paramores. And while that thought did stir something hot and uncomfortable in her stomach, she had told him that she wouldn’t stop him if it was what he wanted. And she’d said that he hadn’t invited her and it wasn’t like the elevator had a lock but seeing the other woman still hurt. Especially her certainty that he would have appreciated her surprise. But she shoved those feelings down and offered the woman a smile that she could feel didn’t reach her eyes.

“Things do tend to be a bit more PG with her here,” Chloe agreed. The woman nodded, a small smile on her face along with a touch of confusion as she wondered why Lucifer, notorious for his pursuits of _adult_ forms of entertainment would allow a child in his home. Unless … was she his? She did have dark hair like Lucifer, and similar warm brown eyes but she couldn’t see any of his features in the girl, though the blonde woman did share features with her. But why else would she be here? The mother didn’t look like Lucifer’s usual type, though she did look familiar and Stephanie wondered if she hadn’t seen her before. 

Before she could ask where she knew her from or what their relationship was, the elevator chimed and Lucifer joined them, eyes flashing red and the flickers of flames dancing along his body. Stephanie found she could barely breathe at the menace radiating from him. His quick eyes darted over the room, searching for danger and seeing none. Instantly his eyes were back to brown and the flames were gone, as was the aura of malice that had poured from the elevator with him. The paramore shook her head blinking, certain that the flames and glow that she had seen had to have been a trick of the orange lighting and maybe there was a fog machine in the club? While she was attempting to clear her head, he crossed the room placing his hands on Chloe’s face and staring into her eyes.

“Darling, are you alright?” he breathed, looking at her for injury he knew wouldn’t be there. Even so, he couldn’t help himself. She may be alright but she could have not been. He’d been foolish to leave her alone. He could sense the fear radiating from her. It was his fault. He shouldn’t have left. 

“I’m fine,” she was saying, shaking her head with a self-deprecating laugh. “I … I-I panicked. I know I shouldn’t have. I-I should have seen who it was before calling you. I’m so sorry that I ruined your evening. I … I just …”

“ _Never_ apologize for calling me,” he breathed, pulling her against him, needing to feel her against him to ground his turbulent emotions. “ _Always_ call me. Don’t wait until you know that you need me. I would rather come to a hundred false alarms than miss one real one. And it took me longer than it should have to get here.”

“It’s fine,” she said, feeling her limbs begin to shake as the adrenaline faded. “I’m fine. I promise. I overreacted. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, Lucifer. But I was scared and--”

“There is nothing to forgive, Love,” he repeated. He pulled her back against him, fighting the urge to cocoon her in his wings before turning to Trixie. “Are you alright, Offspring?” 

“I wasn’t ever _not_ alright,” Trixie countered. “I was enjoying my conversation with Stephanie when Mommy came through the door like a ninja. You’re not as graceful as Maze, by the way, Mommy. She’s better at the ninja stuff.”

“I didn’t mean to scare anyone,” Stephanie added, offering them a sad smile. She knew now why she recognized the other woman. She was the LAPD detective that Lucifer worked with and had been kidnapped with last week. No wonder she’d sacred the poor woman. And Lucifer. They’d just escaped kidnappers and someone random shows up uninvited, yeah, even if the Detective and the kid hadn't been there it probably wouldn't have gone over well.

“I fu--,” she flinched and glanced at the child before shooting Lucifer and the detective an apologetic grimace, “ _messed_ up. Big time. I figured that with you down in the club, even after what happened to you last week, you would welcome a distraction. I thought that maybe I could be that distraction. I didn’t think I would scare you. Either of you. I’m sorry. And I didn’t know that you would have company.”

“Last week?” Chloe asked as Lucifer scoffed saying, “you could never scare me, darling.” Stephanie smiled at the difference in the cadence of the two uses of ‘darling’ that she’d heard and knew that the speculation had been right; he and that detective were more than just partners. 

“Your kidnapping,” Stephanie clarified. “It was all over the news. I didn’t expect to see you in the club, Lucifer. I figured you would take it easy for a bit but I came up when I did, hoping to spend some time with you. I can see now that it wouldn’t have been welcome. It was nice to meet you, Trixie. You’ve got a cute kid, Lucifer.” While Lucifer sputtered and tried to find the words to tell him that Trixie wasn’t his, Stephanie walked to the elevator and took it back down to the busy club. As she rejoined her group and explained why her night hadn't gone as planned there was a collective sigh that LA's most notorious bachelor was taken. Though there was a small bit of hope that, maybe, she'd share. Stephanie wasn't convinced. That hadn't looked like a sharing relationship, he hadn't spared her more than a glance, all his attention on the detective. She couldn't see either of them branching out, but what did she know.

***

Once she was gone, Lucifer did give into his impulse. His wings materialized and wrapped around Chloe shielding her and pulling her more firmly against him. 

"I'm sorry,” she kept repeating as her fingers dug into his shoulders below the cover of his wings. "I should have actually _looked_ to see what was going on before I fucking panicked like a new recruit and called for backup. I didn't even _look_ ! I just heard someone talking to Trixie and I _froze._ I froze! What if she had been dangerous, Lucifer? My first instinct was to call you and freeze. I'm a cop, that can't be what I do!"

“You called me,” he countered, stroking her back. “That’s not freezing, Darling. You did something. And you were already here dealing with it by the time I arrived. You didn’t freeze, Chloe. You came in here unarmed and prepared to deal with anything in this room until I could arrive. That is something.” 

“And what was I going to do, Lucifer?” she asked, growing slightly frantic once more. “I don’t have my gun, I didn’t even grab a weapon. I mean, I could have taken Stephanie in a fight but what if she’d been someone else? What if she’d been your family?” 

“You’d have held them off until I arrived if they were human,” Lucifer soothed. “If it was my family--a highly unlikely thing, I assure you--your gun would have been useless anyway. Your best bet if it is my family is to try to keep them talking until I can get to you. It’ll be me they want anyway.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” she muttered into his chest. "What if they want to take you back to hell? I can't stop them, Lucifer and I don't want to lose you."

"With my wings and invulnerability and access to my powers I can take more than a couple of my siblings in a fight," he promised. "At the same time even. Only Dad or Michael could give me a run for my money and neither of them is likely to deign to deal with me themselves. This isn't something you should trouble yourself with, Love. There are very few powers in this universe that can force me to do something against my will and leaving you would qualify. I'm not going anywhere." She nodded but couldn't shake her feelings of apprehension. Somehow his last statement had felt like tempting fate. As she listened to his heart beat beneath her cheek, she hoped she was wrong.

***

Lucifer eventually grew uncomfortable with her continued embrace, shifting in her grip before vanishing his wings and extracting himself with the excuse of washing up before bed. She let him go, the worst of her anxieties soothed for the moment, and returned to the couch with her daughter. Trixie sprawled across the cushions, her head pillowed in her mother's lap and tried to watch her movie with blinks that became increasingly longer, her breathing slowing and deepening as sleep claimed her once more. 

With a small smile, Chloe moved out from under her head, thankful for the return of bloodflow. When had Trixie's head gotten so heavy? She was about to pour herself a stiff drink when a curse from the bathroom pulled her attention. Heading there at a sprint, she was shocked to see the wall of white feathers blocking her way.

"Everything okay, Lucifer?" Chloe asked softly, pushing gently against the left wing to squeeze through, mindful of the sharp primary feathers. He moved it to accommodate her but did not turn to face her, the tip of the right wing held between his fingers before he dropped his hands with a growl of frustration. 

"No it's not," came the disgruntled reply. "Bloody things won't come out." 

"Your wings?" She asked in confusion, fighting the urge to stroke the luminescent feathers. "They look pretty out to me."

"Not the wings, Detective," he snarled, shooting a glare at her, though he was irritated with himself more than her. "The bloody grommets. I was trying to get them out and they won't come. They won’t open and the skin won’t tear enough to let me force them out. Who knew that there would be a downside to invulnerability? What I wouldn’t give ... I suppose I'll have to get a hell-forged knife and cut them out."

"Won't -won’t that hurt?" she asked, her gut churning at the idea that he would have to endure pain again because of what he'd allowed for her. She understood why he would want the piercings gone but this seemed a bit extreme and sudden for it just to be the desire to have them gone.

"Yes," he agreed, his tone one of controlled irritation. "But that's the only way to remove them. As I’ve said, they won't open and the skin won't stretch. And I want them gone. Now."

"Do they hurt right now?" Chloe asked not sure what she wanted the answer to be. While she hated the idea that he was in constant pain, the idea that he was willing to cause pain when it wouldn’t spare him pain worried her. She knew that he was more upset at the moment than he was trying to let on and had a penchant for self-harm when he was upset and looking for something to control. She vividly remembered his desperation and attempt to commit suicide by sniper after he’d killed Uriel and his admittance that he had cut of his wings--an excruciating painful process--more than once to exhibit control over his body. It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that he was doing this to control something.

“No,” he said softly. “They don't hurt. They are just there. My wings seem to have incorporated them into the design. I only really notice them if I look.”

“Then let’s not do this tonight,” Chloe countered, continuing when he opened his mouth to protest. “I’m not saying that I won’t help you. I will if it’s something you still want when you’re not upset and when Trixie isn’t here. I don’t want her to see me cutting into your wings with one of Maze’s knives. She's taking this well but that might be a little much. If you still want them cut out when Trixie goes back to Dan and you are calmer, I promise I will cut them out myself.”

“Do not make promises to me that you do not intend to keep, Chloe,” Lucifer said, his tone dangerous. “I love you more than I have ever loved anything in this universe but I cannot allow even you to cheat me.” He meant to scare her but she wasn’t running. Instead, she raised her head in defiance, glaring up at him.

“I’m not,” she replied steadily. “If you still want this later, then I will cut the grommets out of your wings with one of Maze’s knives with my own hands. I swear it. But not in front of my daughter and not tonight.”

“In exchange?” he asked, sensing that she wanted something from him in return more than his patience in the matter. 

“You tell me what is actually bothering you,” she said as if it was the simplest thing in the world. He considered it a moment, knowing that he couldn’t reach the ones nearer where his wings met his back and that there was no one else he would trust with infernal steel. Certainly not Mazikeen. A week ago he would have trusted Linda. But after what she'd believe him capable of, Chloe was his only choice. 

"I tell you why I'm upset and when the child leaves you help me remove the grommets by cutting them from my wings if I still wish it?" he repeated wanting them both to know what they were agreeing to.

"Yes," she agreed, her expression daring him to back down. He didn't, offering her a hand instead. She took it, never breaking eye contact.

"I'm upset for many reasons," he said. "You needed me and I wasn't here. We proposed my ability to teleport as a solution but I couldn't just disappear from the piano in a crowded club. I had to walk and you could have been killed before I could have arrived."

"I wasn't," she reminded him. "I'm the one who panicked. She wasn't a threat."

"She could have been," he countered. "And in my own home. I promised that you and the child would be safe here and you almost weren't. I'll have a lock installed tomorrow. Would you prefer a code, key or biometrics?"

"Lucifer" she sighed, concerned that he was overreacting and going to do something he'd regret. 

"You're right," he said, pacing despite the fact that the space was too small, his wings puffing with his agitation, "biometrics are best. Keys can be stolen, codes extorted. Biometrics it is. I can have them program myself, you, the child ... who else would you like to have unfettered access?"

"You don't have to do that," Chloe insisted. "I know how much you love your open door policy. I can't ask--"

"You're not asking. I'm offering," he said, his tone one of a man who'd made a decision. "Insisting actually. That's not the first time that someone has come up and ruined an evening. I'll post my number in the lift but it will have a lock. Lux is open to all, but the penthouse is invitation only." 

He seemed decided and certain of his decision but Chloe could help feeling uncomfortable with it. It was reactionary. A decision born from fear and anxiety rather than logic. Even though a lock wasn't a bad idea and wouldn't have been a bad idea from the start, it was just one more piece of himself he was having to sacrifice for their happiness while she gave up nothing. How many more pieces was he willing to give before it wouldn't be worth it?


	14. Nerves and Negotioations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long folks, I have reworked this one probably six or seven times in its entirety (as opposed to the usual write, proofread and upload to AO3 for a final once over pattern) and am still not happy with it. There is enough in it that I want to keep, including the foreshadowning of things to come and feelings but I don't like it. If there are any suggestions as to what it is that is nagging at me, I would love them. This was one of the only times in my writing excursions that I wished I had someone to run this by, but I don't . So let me know what you think. I'm more than up for suggestions and to massive revisions. Next three chapters are mostly written, this just wouldn't work and I'm giving up and giving you what I have. Hope you enjoy it more than I do. 
> 
> To those of you that are curious, Michael will make his appearance in the next chapter. It was meant to be this one and that my be my discontent with it. (and it's not really a spoiler since it's in the summary ;) )
> 
> This chapter underwent a major revision on 6/27/2020 thanks to Riverabr who pinpointed my dislike of the previous version of the chapter. Thank you again for the review!

Lucifer remained on edge the rest of the evening, pacing to keep himself between Chloe and the elevator no matter where she moved, his eyes darting from her to the balcony. She kept saying that it was nerves but he couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching them. It was like an itch between his shoulder-blades that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times he checked that nothing was there. It was only when Chloe lifted Trixie to move her from the couch to the bed, that Lucifer moved from between her and the elevator to step into her path. His concerned expression as he glanced from Trixie to the elevator, to the balcony and the hall leading to the guest room stopping her in her tracks. With a groan, Chloe turned back to the couch, she couldn't argue with him while holding the nine-year-old. She was too heavy.

"She'll be fine in the guest room, Lucifer," Chloe sighed, laying Trixie back down and turning to face him. "I know you're shook and I'm sorry I worried you needlessly and made you uncomfortable in your own home. Honestly, I'm still a bit on edge too, but she will sleep better in a bed and there is no danger to her here. Is there?"

He glanced from the child to the elevator and opened his mouth to argue but closed it again. She was right. They were safe. There was no overt signs of a threat and it wouldn’t do to worry her needlessly but he couldn't silence the prickling instinct that things were not fine. There was something more behind it than a false alarm from Stephanie. He knew there was more to it than that. He was the Devil, threats were not new. He’d been led into traps before that didn’t leave him feeling this unsettled. But while the feeling and the threat remained vague it wouldn't do to worry her needlessly. The child would be fine in the guest room. He was being ridiculous. Short of his Father, he could defend this apartment against all comers. Celestials weren’t immune to hellfire. He could protect them all, even separated. He shook his head trying to ignore the trepidation stirring in his gut and bent to lift Trixie with as little effort as if she were paper. Still the vague sense of threat lingered. And it would be easier to defend them if they were together, safety in numbers and all of that.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather have her in bed with you?" he asked, glancing towards the staircase to his bedroom. "She won’t be putting me out if that’s what you’re worried about. I will be unable to sleep and I'd … I can likely protect the entire penthouse but it would be easier to keep you both safe if … if there is a threat, I would rather not have to choose which of you to defend."

"Nothing is going to happen, honey," Chloe said, her heart breaking at his barely contained panic at having to choose between which of them he would protect. She knew who she would pick to defend with her body, but Lucifer was invulnerable and Trixie wasn't. He didn't have the luxury of having one of the people he cared for indestructible and it was clear that the possibility of an intruder was upsetting him. 

"You can't know that," he replied, his expression twisting and his hold on Trixie shifting unconsciously to cradle her closer. "We're too open. Too exposed. Our enemies have too many points of ingress. And I do have enemies, Chloe. Human and celestial. My lifestyle and identity makes not making them impossible, as does yours. You are both so important and so fragile. Cain used it against us and eventually they will all know that. Stephanie realized it in moments. As you have reminded me before, I am stronger and faster than any human and with wings most celestials but I am not all powerful. Do not make the mistake of thinking that I am. I would hate for you to be harmed due to undue faith in my abilities. It is unwise to take unnecessary risks. If we were attacked . . . I ...don't make me choose. Please?" 

"Okay," she agreed easily, his admittance that they were important to him and his desperation winning her over. "She can sleep with us. Just tonight." With a nod, he headed for the bedroom while Chloe headed to the bar for a drink. She jumped at a noise to her right and glanced up to see Lucifer leaning against the bar, having placed himself between her and the elevator. She could tell he was going for casual leaning, but the tension in his frame ruined the attempt as did his narrowed eyes constantly roving from the balcony to the elevator to the bedroom door. It wasn’t the first time she had seen him jumping at shadows, but he’d been sleeping this time. She wanted to write it off as paranoia, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to happen. It was probably just his nerves affecting her, but what if it wasn’t? What if there was a threat? Even if there was, this wasn't helping. If there was then they would be ready for it, but he had to calm down. There was no obvious threat and paranoia would do neither of them any favors. 

"Nothing's going to happen, honey," she soothed, hoping that by saying it she could summon it into being. As she hugged him and felt the barely contained energy thrumming through him, she knew that she’d been right. He had to relax or innocent people would be hurt. 

"You're here,” she whispered. “And I'm here. We're safe. And you've said yourself that with you invulnerable there is no person that can come up that elevator that you can't handle. You’re not all powerful but you are more than a match for any group of humans, aren't you? Even an entire, well armed FBI troop didn’t phase you. All of our enemies on Earth are human, aren't they?" It seemed to be working. The faint tremor was leaving him and he was relaxing slightly into the hug, though he was still too tense and alert to call it relaxed.

"That's it," she praised anyway, wanting to offer encouragement. "How many humans can you take in a fight if you're not containing yourself, huh? Relax, sweetheart. Nothing will hurt me or Trixie. Not here. We’re safe with you. I know it." A bit more of his tension left him and his arms came around her, his cheek resting on her head with a discontented hum. 

“I just, it _feels_ like there’s something _off_ ,” he muttered, his breath stirring her hair. “I can’t explain it, Chloe. There’s nothing I can pin down, no scent, no power signature, no sounds but it feels like, almost as if the air itself is watching us. It may just be nerves, as you say, but ... it doesn’t fell like a threat, more of a presence. I can’t explain it. But I do not like it.”

“Whatever it is, we’ll handle it,” she replied with an offhanded tone that she didn’t feel. If Lucifer was anxious it couldn’t be good. As far as she could tell he didn’t do anxious. Even while imprisoned and tortured, she had seen dejected, vengeful, agitated and desperate but never anxious. He had never agonized over what might come, he had been calm in the face of most of it. Seeing the anxiety now awoke discomfort in her her.

“Not that you need it," she offered, "but you have my full approval to do whatever you feel you must to keep us safe if someone does attack. Don’t hold back for fear of what I will think.” She felt him nod and his arms around her tightened slightly, almost as if afraid it would be the last time.

She wasn't sure how long they stood there, but it was long enough that she had time to wonder when she became okay with advocating for Lucifer to commit violence rather than attempting to dissuade him from it. And how weird it was that she could calmly discuss him versus untold numbers of humans and have no doubt he'd win. _Probably about the same time he'd sprouted wings and began threatening those who had hurt them with a painful fiery death that you were all for,_ she thought with a grimace. Which only deepened at the idea that the ability to summon fire at will was probably not a good skill in someone as jumpy as he was at the moment. Not that she was better, praying to him to save her over a party girl, who he'd been prepared to smite like an avenging angel--well, Devil. God were they a pair, she thought with a snort. A coward of a detective and the Devil who was prepared to smite people for breathing too loudly and startling her. 

“What about any of this is funny, darling?” he demanded, the words lacking heat despite his best efforts. 

"I’m just worried about you accidentally smiting a Britney," Chloe said glibly, pulling back to grin at him. She was rewarded with an amused snort and a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. 

"I don't smite things," Lucifer countered, his tone mock affronted. "That's Dear Old Dad's department." It was her turn to scoff. "Besides, I don't think that you can smite something accidentally. I believe that verb requires intent."

"You know what I meant," she laughed. "And don't tell me you don't smite things. You came in ready to smite earlier. Looked every bit the avenging Devil. Stephanie will be alright after seeing you wreathed in flame, won't she?"

"She'll have explained it away somehow," he said with a shrug, moving away to pour himself a drink, passing her one as well. "You should know. How many times and ways did you explain away my “odd” behavior?" She nodded slowly. She really had gone to some extremes both on and off paper to explain away his celestial behavior. They drifted into silence, both sipping from their glasses unable to decide what the next topic should be but not ready for bed. Neither of them wanted to suggest a movie either. Suddenly a topic he'd been waiting to discuss since earlier that evening wafted forward. 

"I met a woman in the club tonight," Lucifer said softly, ignoring the tone in which she said his name, somewhere between hurt and horrified. "She was beautiful, willing, begging even."

"Lucifer stop," Chloe said softly, refusing to look at him. "I told you. I can't stop you, _shouldn't_ stop you but I can't hear this. I don't want to know." It was more difficult for him to ignore her desire for him to stop but he had to finish the statement. 

"I told her no," he said simply. "Sent her to another. I didn't _want_ her. Why was that? She was willing and wanted me but I said no. Not even 'maybe later' just no. Why?" At first she stared at him incredulously, did he want praise for not sleeping with someone who wasn't her? It was only when his genuinely confused expression didn't waver that she realized he was actually asking for advice. He truly didn't understand why he'd said no. In all honesty, she didn't either. She had told him that she wouldn't stop him and while she wanted to believe that it was because he only wanted her, she could bring herself to selfishly tell him that was the reason. Not when she didn’t _know_. 

"You should ask Linda," Chloe shifted uncomfortably, unable to bring herself to offer the explanation on the tip of her tongue and potentially mislead him. "I'm too close to this to answer that. I know what I want the answer to be but don't want you to think that's what it is if it isn't."

“I’ll just figure it out on my own then, shall I?” he said bitterly, knocking back his glass and pouring another. “I don't want to talk to Linda. I told you yesterday that she doesn’t seem to be as much of an expert in _me_ as I’d thought. That leaves you and me. And clearly I'm not an expert in _this_ if I'm asking. But if you won’t help, that leaves me and I guess I'll just muddle through.” 

She sighed and bit her lip before she could bring herself to answer. If she left him to flounder it was possible that he would never come to an answer and he’d already said himself that he didn’t want the other woman, was it really trapping him if she repeated his own words back to him? She really needed him to patch things up with Linda or Maze, or anyone, really. It wasn’t fair or healthy for her to be his only confidante. But for now, she couldn’t watch him struggle when he’d already given her the answer and just didn’t realize it.

“Maybe . . . do you think that maybe you didn’t take her up on her offer because you didn’t want her,” Chloe said softly, hoping to Lucifer’s Dad that she wasn’t leading him to the conclusion she wanted rather than the actual one.

“What I want has rarely mattered,” Lucifer said as if it was a fact rather than a heartbreaking misuse of his joy in giving others what they desired. “She desired me. And she was attractive. It shouldn't have been an imposition. But … I said no. I didn’t want to say yes and I said no.”

“Have you ever told me yes when you wanted to say no just because you knew I wanted you to say yes?” Chloe asked, something akin to guilt stirring within her at the thought that she’d made him do something against his will. She would have to watch for that in the future. How many things had he done that he didn't want to just because he thought someone else wanted him to? Everyone but his Dad that was, in that case how many things had he avoided doing that he wanted to just because he thought his Dad wanted him to do them?

“Never when it mattered,” he replied with a shrug, oblivious to the internal struggle she was having. It was only when she began to shift uncomfortably and he recognized pity in her eyes that he realized she was feeling bad for him. Like he was a victim. 

“Don’t look at me like that, Darling,” he said firmly. “I am not a victim. I wasn’t _forced_ against my will. No one can … well I suppose that’s not true, is it? Cain and Dad managed to do it but no one _else_ has ever forced me to do something against my will. Certainly no one _mortal._ The things I have done with others may not have been about what I wanted but a good time was had by all, I assure you. And while there are some things I do find more pleasurable than others, as I told you before, I get pleasure from the desires of others being fulfilled. Through the exercise of free will.” She didn’t look convinced and he smiled fondly at her. Only she would care if the devil was happy and willing, everyone else had been happy to take what they got and allow him what considerable pleasure he could gleen from the situation. He'd never complained and a good time was certainly had by all. Many times. He had no complaints about his life it just . . . wasn’t what he wanted now. What he couldn’t figure out was why.

“What are the things?” Chloe said finally, when he quirked an eyebrow, she elaborated, “that you find more pleasurable. What are those things?"

“Little minx,” he purred, moving towards her slowly, a sly smile in place. “Changing the subject to distract me. Shall I show you then? Those things I find the most pleasurable?” 

“Tell is sufficient for now, Lucifer,” Chloe squeaked, the sound escaping her as her back hit the bar, wishing it had come out stronger and not minding that it hadn't simultaneously. She felt her pulse.quicken as he pressed against her, kissing a line of fire along her neck, his fingers going for the buttons on her shirt. 

“PG-13, remember?" She breathed, wondering if she would have to climb over the bar and then her mind offering definitely _not_ PG-13 images of how her on the bar might play out. "I have a feeling the show portion would be NC-17.”

“Spoil sport,” he groaned, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to her collarbone before backing off slightly looking flustered. “What’s the point in talking about things we can’t do? Are you secretly here to torture me?”

“No,” she scoffed. “Don’t be melodramatic. And there is a purpose, Lucifer. To figure out what we can do when she goes back to Dan’s,” Chloe said, buttoning her shirt back up. “I think it’s pretty normal for people with previous sexual experiences to compare likes and dislikes and maybes.” 

“I like sex,” Lucifer said simply as if that was all there was to it and reaching for his glass. “Any, all, however, wherever. I’m game.If it brings you pleasure, I’m all for it. How about you?”

“I like sex,” Chloe agreed, Lucifer grinned at her honesty. “But I don’t like places where I can be caught. I don’t find the idea of being caught in a compromising position alluring. And I’m a cop, so public sex is out. What is out for you?” 

Lucifer thought for a moment before saying, “With you, unless it is something you greatly desire to experience, I would rather not . . . not that I won’t if you ask it. I have in the past in many situations, but,” he trailed off with a sigh before closing his eyes and blurting, “I’d rather not _punish_ you. No whip, chains or paddles.” when she said nothing he grew uncomfortable. “Unless … unless it’s something you wish for me to do,” he amended. “If it would bring you pleasure--”

“It wouldn’t,” she was quick to assure him, pleased that he was discussing this honestly. “It’s not something I’ve ever done but I don’t think that is something I need and I’m glad to hear that it’s not something you do either. I was a little worried. Especially when I went through your dresser.”

“Because I’m the Devil?” he said ruefully, looking away. “I’m sure to be into rough sex, have to hurt you to get off after a while? Maybe even blood play? And I’m sure to have a punishment kink.”

“You do,” she reminded him, placing a hand on his cheek and smiling as he allowed her to turn his face back to her. “It’s why you started working with me to begin with. It brings you pleasure to see the guilty punished and I love that about you. But I am relieved that it doesn’t extend to the bedroom.” She didn’t miss the smile that crossed his face at her admission that she loved something about his personality and she made a mental note to tell him more often. But now was not the time. They were actually having an honest discussion and she had no intention of derailing it. 

“That said,” she added, “I’ve never minded a bit of light bondage, either being bound or binding. Nothing too kinky. Wrists to the headboard, padded handcuffs, that kind of thing and I trust you not to hurt me but . . . I don’t think, not right now. Not after ... “ she trailed off, her pulse pounding in her head as her mind went back to the cage and the bunker. Cold cuffs biting her wrists, holding her trapped and powerless while she and Lucifer were harmed. She flinched violently as a hand touched her cheek, her arm coming up expecting to be stopped by the cold steel she could feel around her wrists only to be surprised when she grabbed flesh. She opened eyes she hadn’t realized she’d closed to see Lucifer’s warm brown eyes far closer than she’d been expecting, untroubled by the deathgrip she had on his wrist. 

“I know that you trust me, Chloe,” he promised, his breath mingling with hers and their noses almost touching, his fingers stroking her cheek, the tendons moving under her own fingers. “I don’t need that from you. Not now and not ever if you’re never ready again. Actually, even though I know that I can escape any bonds here, I would rather not be bound either. I do not particularly like feeling powerless.” She nodded, swallowing heavily and staring into his eyes trying to force the memories back where she had locked them. She rested her forehead against his, the hand that wasn’t around his wrist coming up to cradle his cheek, back to his artful scruff rather than the beard. It was reassuring, familiar and after a moment she trusted herself to speak again. 

“So, no bondage, no kinky punishment,” she listed, releasing his wrist and his cheek but not stepping back out of his space. “What about things you like?” The slow smile that spread across his face should have warned her what she was getting into, even though she should have known bringing up sexual likes with the most promiscuous being in LA or maybe the world. So they sat at the bar, drinking and talking while Lucifer suggested things and Chloe either agreed, vetoed or added them to the ever growing “maybe” pile of things that she had never experienced. By the time her head was spinning with possibilities, perplexed by how some of those things could even work and flabbergasted by some of the _filthy_ things he had suggested they were both more hot and bothered than they were prepared to admit. With a quick glance at the bed where her daughter was sleeping, Chloe sighed, shifting her hips in an attempt to alleviate the growing need. Why didn’t Lucifer believe in doors!?

_*******_ "Are you quite alright, Darling?" Lucifer asked, his eyebrow raising suggestively, encouraged by her flush and shifting despite her insistence on keeping things PG-13. He may not be able to compel her desires, but she was projecting them strongly enough that a dead man would be able to read them. And he was far from dead. And more than interested in the woman next to him. 

"Why don't you believe in doors, Lucifer?" she groaned shooting another, almost irritated look at the bedroom and her sleeping child. "If there was a door on that room, I would have you right here on this bar, right now?" 

"Would you, now?" he purred, leaning back against the bar and undoing the first couple buttons of his shirt, giving her a 'come hither' look. "Have I ever told you that I like women who take charge of their own pleasure, Detective?" He didn't miss the final furtive glance at the still, peacefully sleeping child or the look of determination that came into her blue eyes as she stalked towards him. 

"Are we really back to that, then, Lucifer?" she sighed, running a single finger over the bare skin of his neck and chest, her other hand agonizingly slow as she opened the next button. He hadn't known that she could be such a tease. he let out a small moan, wondering just what this woman was doing to him that something that innocent broke his control and she pulled her hands away shaking her head. 

"We'll have to be quiet, honey," she said. "Can you do that? And we'll have to go behind the bar. I don't want to be caught." His nerves prickled a bit at being trapped behind the bar at the moment. The sense of presence hadn't vanished and had actually become more intense. But perhaps it would be alright, it wasn't as if they would be gone and he had no qualms with nudity. Though he was sure that Chloe would object to him fighting in the nude with Trixie present. In a final risk calculation, his eyes shot to the balcony and he could have sworn that he saw a flash of gold rapidly descending towards the ground past his balcony. All of his arousal fell away in a wash of cold dread at who the presence and the gold might mean. _Please, Dad, anyone but **him**._

"What's the matter, Lucifer?" Chloe asked, freezing in response to him going stiff under her hands, his breath coming in shallow, panicked gasps that gave no illusion of arousal. She followed his gaze to the balcony, expecting to see an angel or a legion of demons or something. There was nothing there but the night sky.

"Lucifer?" she tried again stepping back to look at him better. He stayed frozen, abject terror written into every line of his face, his eyes blank.

"Lucifer?" she risked touching his arm with the tip of her finger, prepared to jump back if he lashed out hoping that she'd be fast enough. He flinched, drawing a deep shuddering breath before looking at her, his eyes glowing with hellfire and his breath coming in fast, deep pulls.

"Hey," she tried, holding her hands up and waiting until the tension left him before approaching him. He clung to her, just this side of painful, his wings coming around her and shielding her from view entirely. "Lucifer? What happened? What's up?" 

"Never though I'd say this, and especially not to you but not me apparently," he said, trying for humor and falling flat. "I ... um, well, I think it might be time for you to go to bed, darling. Alone. I ... I won't be sleeping tonight. Not in any sense of the word. There ... I though I saw something, and ... I won't be good company tonight, I'm afraid. You may as well get some rest." 

"You're scaring me, Lucifer," Chloe said softly. "I thought the Devil didn't do fear?" 

"The Devil doesn't fear _people_ , my dear," Lucifer replied. "And while I stand guard you needn't fear anything, Chloe. Nothing will harm you again while I draw breath." _That's what scares me,_ she thought sadly, hoping after she did that he hadn't heard it. He sad smile as he stroked her cheek suggested that he had. "Rest, Darling," he said, taking her hand and leading her to the bed to tuck her in beside her daughter. "I'll keep watch. No one but us will enter this penthouse tonight. Sleep." She wanted to argue put as he pressed a kiss to her forehead, she felt the undeniable urge to sleep overtake her. She couldn't even form the question of if he'd had something to do with it before sleep overtook her. 

He felt guilt churn in his gut as he watched the compulsion to sleep overtake Chloe. He hadn't consciously decided to do it, and even now he wasn't sure why it had worked when none of his other abilities had but she'd always been a bit of a wild card where he was concerned. But he needed her asleep and safe to concentrate on what he needed to do now. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath he summoned a dome of fire that covered his entire bed where the two humans slept blissfully unaware of just what might come. He took special care that the inside would remain cool and not overheat them while the outer-edge was hot enough to melt flesh from bone. It took little effort to maintain but some concentration to conjure. He watched a moment longer to ensure that they were comfortable under their hellfire bell-jar before returning to the main room and sitting against the bar once more. They were safe. As long as he breathed none could touch them. He kept repeating that idea like a mantra in his mind as he kept his silent vigil, eyes flicking from the elevator to the balcony awaiting the arrival of the one who would ruin it all. 


	15. Doppelganger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick message before you get into this monster of a chapter, the last third of the previous chapter has undergone MAJOR revisions, like scrap and rewrite revisions. If you want to read the new version (which I do recommend as it makes a bit of this chapter make sense) it is right after the likes/dislikes discussion and denoted by a bold *** at the beginning of the line. It does alter the tone quite a bit and my everlasting thanks to Riverabr for aiding me in finding what was bothering me.

Chloe awoke slowly from the best night of sleep she had had since before their kidnapping. She couldn’t even remember dreaming though she did have a vague memory of cool fire. She wasn’t even disoriented despite the restfulness of it. She knew that she was in Lucifer’s bed and that she was alone. He had told her that he hadn't intended to sleep last night, but she had assumed he was just keyed up. She figured when the adrenaline--Did he even have adrenaline or did his brain run on different hormones?--faded he would get sleepy. 

But, true to his word, the next morning Chloe awoke alone in Lucifer's room to the sound of a strange voice coming from the main room. She froze waiting to see if he would say more, anxiety clawing at her at the sound of Trixie's voice before dissipating with the addition of Lucifer's. Berating herself for being an idiot, she crawled across the bed, snagged Lucifer's robe and padded into the living room. Standing there explaining to Trixie, very patiently, how to work the new lock was a young technician. Lucifer watched their interaction with sharp eyes, his posture casually threatening, and Chloe noticed the poor tech shooting concerned glances at the Devil as he tried to explain biometrics to a nine-year-old. Trixie was grasping it just fine and seemed to think it was the coolest thing ever.

“Did you hear that, Mommy?” she asked, bounding over to grab her mother’s hand and drag her back to the poor boy, “Jimmy” his nametag said. “I get my own fingerprint code to get up here and nobody else's fingerprint will match mine.”

“I did, Monkey,” Chloe said, moving to wrap an arm around Lucifer’s waist, pleased when he leaned into her with a hum. “Have you been nice to Mr. Jimmy?” 

“She’s been wonderful, Ms. Decker,” Jimmy was quick to assure her, shooting another glance at Lucifer. “Not a bother at all. I just need your fingerprints to finish the set-up and I’ll let you folks enjoy breakfast.”  _ And escape _ , Chloe could almost hear added on the end. She nodded, taking pity on the kid and offering both her middle and index finger of both hands before he scampered out the door like the Devil was on his tail.

“You know you can be less intimidating,” Chloe sighed, elbowing said Devil as the doors closed behind Jimmy just a bit too slowly to stop his relieved sigh. “He seemed like a good kid.” Lucifer shrugged and stepped away before passing her a plate of French toast and eggs from below the bar. 

"He set up the system and knows any potential weaknesses," Lucifer replied. "I needed him to fear what would happen were he to betray me." Chloe shook her head, biting off the question of just how in-depth he had gone with that potential scenario needing to  _ not _ know for her sanity and morals. "But it's done now and I'll have another of my people look it over for weaknesses."

"Can you disable it if you change your mind?" she asked around an absolutely decadent bite. He really did cook too well for her own good. As he added more syrup to her plate (maple not sugar-based) she shook her head. Clearly calories were another pesky human thing he didn’t understand either. She wondered absently if her ban from the precinct included their gym. She considered foregoing the french toast before deciding she’d run the block if she had to and taking another bite.

"Yes but I won't change my mind," he said smiling softly at the satisfied hum from his detective. "So what's on the agenda for today? Disastrous trips to the precinct? More insults from Dr. Linda? Provoking different crime bosses? Armageddon?" Chloe rolled her eyes at his melodrama but it seemed to have gone over Trixie's head because she answered. 

"I need to go to Daddy's house," she replied. "It's his weekend and we were going to go see Abuelita. I miss her, Mommy. And I know that you're not going anywhere again since you and Lucifer have each other to keep the other safe. Can’t I go?” 

“There’s no need for you to go, Child. I've grown accustomed to you and it is safe for you here and--” Lucifer began only to stop as Chloe shot him a glare before turning back to Trixie.

“Yes, Monkey,” Chloe said firmly, ignoring Lucifer’s aborted protest. “I’m sure Abuelita misses you too. Why don’t you go have a bath in Lucifer’s giant tub while I call your daddy.” She agreed enthusiastically, heading for the guest bathroom at a sprint while Chloe turned to her partner in irritation.

“What was that?” she demanded in a harsh whisper. “A week ago you couldn’t stand her touching you and now you’re inviting her over, making her food, carrying her, putting her in  _ your _ bed,  _ comforting _ her and being resistant to her leaving. I’m glad that you’ve decided that you like her but what are you doing?” 

“Our kidnapping altered my perceptions of a few things,” Lucifer said primly. “As did her reaction to my identity. I . . . I find it . . . comforting,” he said the word with his lip curing as if it were a filthy slur, “that she missed me. Worried for me and accepts me so readily, even knowing what I am. I feel that I owe her the same courtesy. Not that it’s an imposition, she is quite likable for a sticky, small human. And I am trying . . . I  _ want _ both her and you to be safe and happy.” 

“She will be,” Chloe promised. “Both of those things can be accomplished if she goes with Dan. He loves her and wants the same thing. It makes me nervous to be away from her too. Always has. I cried the first time I left her at school and resisted the urge to go back for her or to wait at the school all day for her to get out.”

“You never have to feel that again. I could get her a tutor,” Lucifer offered. “She would never have to leave and we could be sure that she is safe. And don't worry, I would make sure that they’re the best. You have my word. It would probably be better than public school. Or she could go to a private school, with security. And a bodyguard. Can I get her one of those? She has Mazikeen but-” 

“Honey,” Chloe sighed, placing her hand in his arm, stopping his rant, “she needs to go out. You can’t keep her cooped up here like a pet. She’s a human and her own person. That’s why she’s in public school. Mom offered a private tutor or private school and Dan and I said no. We want her to be a normal kid with a normal childhood. Within the bounds of what he and I can provide. Not … I didn’t want her to feel  _ entitled _ .”

“But she is, Detective,” Lucifer argued softly, his tone agonized. “I care for her, perhaps because you care for her and I you or perhaps on her own merit. It matters not. I care for her and she is entitled to the best that  _ I _ can provide. You both are. What is the use of all the money and influence I have if I can’t use it for those I care about?”

“She  _ likes _ her school, Lucifer,” Chloe replied, unsure how to respond to his last question or his admission. “She has friends there. And she needs to go out and see other people. It’s important to her emotional development. We can’t be her everything. She needs friends, and her dad and to get to be her own person. Surely you understand that? Isn’t it what you fought with your dad for? The right to be you? To choose? We have to let her choose, honey, unless it is something that can actually hurt her and today she’s choosing to go to Dan’s.” He was silent, a pensive expression on his face before he split into a wide grin and kissed her quickly and chastely on the lips. 

“You’re right, Love,” he said suddenly. “About all of it. You are much better at this than Linda. She never just gives me the answer. She makes me guess. This is better.” Guilt stirred in her gut again that it was possible that she was taking his insecurities and molding him into what she wanted rather than what he needed, but she couldn’t stand by and watch him struggle until he forgave Linda, either. 

After his declaration that she was the best, he moved over to his desk to conduct some business. It was perhaps the strangest sight she had ever seen as he poured over two giant ledgers, double-checking figures and muttering to himself. Shaking her head with a grin at the Devil doing paperwork, she headed for the balcony to keep from disturbing him while she called Dan, only to crash into Lucifer. 

"Deeply sorry, Darling, but the balcony is closed at the moment," he said, not quite meeting her eyes. "The cleaners haven't been by and pigeons are filthy birds, you know."

"Both true statements," Chloe replied, reaching up and not missing his flinch as she caressed his cheek turning his face down to meet her gaze, "so not a lie but I don't think that's why you don't want me on the balcony. Is this related to what happened last night?" 

He swallowed heavily nodding before whispering, "Yes." She looked at him expectantly and he sighed, his shoulders sinking. "I think, I'm not  _ sure _ , mind you, that the presence I was feeling last night may have been one of my less pleasant siblings. One that has no qualms hurting me or those I care about. I can't prove it but …"

"A hunch is enough for this, Lucifer," she sighed as well, leaning against him and enveloping him on a hug. "I don't need the evidence to be beyond a reasonable doubt. What does this sibling look like? From what I know of your siblings, race is irrelevant.” His body grew tenser, though she hadn’t thought that it was possible. “Lucifer? Can you describe them? What does this one look like?” 

“Me,” he said, the simple word carrying all the finality of an atomic bomb. Chloe felt a full body shudder go through her at the realization that Lucifer hadn’t been anxious last night, he’d been terrified. Of his brother. His twin. Michael.

* * *

Trixie was out of the bath before Chloe had been able to compose herself enough to call Dan, who had been more than happy to have his daughter and go visit his mother. In all honesty, Chloe was glad that she was going too. While Lucifer seemed to want to circle the metaphorical wagons and have everyone in one place, having her daughter safely away from what was likely to be the site of a sibling rivalry of literally biblical proportions gave her some peace. Not that anywhere on Earth would truly be safe if Michael and Lucifer decided to throw-down in a rematch of Heaven versus Hell. And she had no doubt that Lucifer would fight if it came to it. He wasn't someone who rolled over easily, unless Michael threatened her or Trixie. That thought made her more certain than ever that Trixie needed to be anywhere that Michael wasn't.  When it came time to leave and take Trixie to Dan’s, who had been reluctant to come to Lux for some reason, Chloe wasn’t sure if she should leave. What if Michael was just waiting for her to leave to attack? Lucifer seemed to have the same idea, but he seemed unsure if Michael would be coming for Chloe and Trixie or him. 

“Come with us?” Chloe asked, only for Lucifer to shake his head.

“Not this time, love,” Lucifer argued. “As much as I want to keep you in my sight, being away from me at the moment is better protection. It’s me he’s after and there’s more risk at my side. Pray if you need me. I will stay up here where I can be there in an instant. And take this, I will not negotiate on this matter.” He forced a small white feather into her hand, glowing with divinity. She nodded, swallowing heavily and put it into the inside pocket of her jacket.

“I love you, Lucifer,” she said, blinking back tears. She couldn’t cry in front of Trixie. She didn’t want to worry her.

“And I you, Detective,” he responded with a small, sad smile. “We just seem to be a bit ill-fated.” 

“I’ll be back,” she promised. She found it quite telling that he didn’t say anything as she walked to the elevator.  _ The Devil doesn’t lie or break promises _ , she thought bitterly. He said nothing because he wasn’t sure that he’d be there when she got back.

“Mommy?” Trixie asked, grabbing her hand. “What’s going on? Why are you and Lucifer sad? I’ll only be gone for a bit and you’ll be right back. And who does he think is after him?”

“One of Lucifer’s brothers may be coming to visit,” Chloe said wishing her voice was stronger. “And they haven’t seen each other in a very long time. And didn’t part on good terms.” 

“Beatrice, promise me something,” Chloe demanded, kneeling down and taking her daughter by the shoulders, “while I don’t think you are in danger, if you see someone who looks like Lucifer but isn’t Lucifer, I need you to pray with everything you’ve got, okay? Call for help.” She left it intentionally vague. Trixie didn't need to know that Michael was the one who had broken Lucifer’s wings and thrown him from heaven. But she did need to know that he was potentially dangerous. 

“O-Okay, Mommy,” Trixie nodded, her eyes going wide as Chloe did the one thing she hadn’t wanted to do. She had frightened her daughter. The ride to Dan’s was unusually somber, Trixie staring out the window and watching faces to look for Lucifer’s brother. As she did, she clutched her bag more tightly, grateful that her mother hadn’t thought to check what she had packed. It was everything she could do not to reach in and grab the handle of the infernal steel that Maze had gifted her for just this occasion. She knew who Michael, the brother who looked just like Lucifer, was and what he was capable of and he wouldn’t get her without a fight. 

“Be safe, Mommy,” Trixie whispered as she hugged her at the door to her daddy’s home while they waited for him to open the door. “I’ll be fine and I will do what we talked about. Does Daddy need to know?” The answer was probably yes but Chloe didn’t know how to tell him without him thinking they were all nuts or going catatonic, which was apparently the normal reaction. 

“We’ll tell him later, honey,” Chloe promised, kissing Trixie and handing her overnight bag to Dan. “You guys have fun.” As the door closed, she couldn’t stop her shoulders from falling. Somehow she knew that by tomorrow nothing would be the same again. If there was a tomorrow. Suddenly she wondered if Lucifer had been joking that morning when he suggested that apocalypses were on the agenda. 

* * *

Lux was in full swing by the time Chloe made it back to the club. As she walked into Lux, weaving her way through the press of bodies, the pulse of the music reverberating in her chest, she was shocked to hear Lucifer's name over a lull in the music. He’d said that he intended to stay upstairs and she couldn’t see him changing his mind with what was going on. But she could just see the back of his head towering above the crowd. With a shrug she changed direction heading towards the Devil, something in the back of her mind clanging that something was wrong. It didn't add up. He was supposed to be upstairs and then there was the fact that he was wearing a pure, snow white suit. She hadn't even known he owned that color, unless he bought it for the irony. She could see him doing that, the Devil dressed in white. But something still felt wrong. 

With that in mind, she moved through the crowd, surveying him rather than walking up and hugging him. As she moved into his line of sight it was rapidly clear that this was not Lucifer. Not only was he wearing a long white robe, not a suit like she’d previously thought, his wide eyes were hazel rather than chocolate brown and held no recognition of her. She felt her heart constrict even as she took in the differences in the familiar face. Unlike his brother, he was clean shaven and his hair was product-free and curlier than Lucifer's was in the same condition. However, the resemblance left her no doubt as to who was in Lux.

"You must be Michael," she said shaking her head, wishing the elephant would get off her chest. His eyes darted to her, pinning her to the spot with the same intensity Lucifer sometimes radiated. She couldn’t stop herself from shifting uncomfortably, barely containing the desire to run or pray, as his eyes seemed to search her very soul. Which, knowing who he was, he might be. 

"You know my name?" He asked, his tone sharp and confused at the same time. The cadence the same as Lucifer’s even though the accent was more Latin than British. "How?"

"I'm Ch-Jane. I … I know Lucifer," she said, trying for a bright vapid smile hoping that he would take her breathlessness for flirting. "He mentioned that he had a twin. He didn't tell me that you're nearly identical. Twins are a common fantasy, you know?" His eyes narrowed briefly and she wondered if he had sensed the false edge to her true statements. She really needed to get better at lying without lying. 

"Do you know where he is?" Michael asked, his tone becoming urgent. "I would like to see him. I can feel him nearby and when I asked about him, humans … I mean  _ people _ told me to come here and that he would come but I have yet to see him. Though I can see this as somewhere he would like to be. So many desires, right on the surface to be fulfilled. And so many people. He never liked to be alone." Michael's tone grew sad at the end and Chloe didn't have to wonder why. Lucifer had mentioned more than once the role Michael had played in his banishment. She felt rage sear her veins at what the archangel in front of her had done to her partner and tried to tamp it down under false ignorance. 

"This is his club," Chloe offered, shrugging and tipping her head sideways, looking around dramatically, "but I don't know if he's here. He’s been a bit scarce lately." She noticed the archangel jump as someone pressed too close, touching him. His eyes began darting and his fingers twitched as the skin around his eye tightened and she rapidly realized that she needed to get him out of the crowd before he smote someone. Millenia apart and he still had many of the same tells as Lucifer. 

"They know me pretty well here. How about I have the bartender let you wait somewhere quieter and out of the way while I try to find him, okay?" Michael nodded, his expression, far more open than Lucifer’s but so painfully similar in their cues, suggesting his senses were overloading. She almost reached for him before reminding herself that he was not Lucifer and motioning for him to follow her, leading him to the bar. 

"Damien," she called to get his attention, praising her luck that Maze wasn't moonlighting. She couldn’t see where pairing the demon and the archangel responsible for Lucifer’s fall would end well. And Lux didn’t need another remodel. Nor did the greater LA area.

"Ms. Chloe, Boss, what can I do for you," he asked before getting a good look at Michael, confusion crossing his features. "What the hell? Did you join a cult, Boss?"

"Damien, this is Michael, Lucifer's brother," Chloe said, trying to convey the severity of the situation with her eyes alone while maintaining the same clueless tone. 

"Damn, I didn't know the Boss had a twin," he whistled. "You could almost pass for him. So why is he here instead of--"

"They had a bit of a falling out years ago," Chloe said, cutting him off sharply, having to drop her vapid party-girl act. "Think you can find somewhere quiet for Michael to wait while I  _ try _ to find Lucifer." Damien nodded, his expression subtle but revealing that he'd caught her drift. Then again, he probably had more than one patron trying to get him to help him or her out of a bad date. Everyone knew that both parties having a good time was the rule at Lux. Remembering Lucifer's reaction to her botched deal, Chloe shuddered to think what would come of someone who tried to roofie someone in Lucifer's club. She knew one thing, there was a reason the local precinct never had that kind of trouble here.

"Come with me, Michael," Damien said, leading the archangel without touching him. "You can hang out in the breakroom for a bit. Do you need anything to drink? Falling out or not, Lucifer will skin me alive if I don't at least offer."

"How horrible!" Michael said, physically balking, aghast at the idea his twin could be so barbaric over something so slight, even after millennia in Hell. He knew that it would have changed him but his brother had never been cruel. Exacting, meticulous with a flair for the dramatic, yes but his brother had always been just, even if he was too prideful. It hurt to know that he was so changed that his own staff would fear him over so little an infraction. Micahel was suddenly uncomfortable with his plan to meet him since he was no longer sure of what Lucifer was capable of.

"It's just a figure of speech, man," Damien replied looking at him like he was crazy. Between how sheltered this one seemed and names like Lucifer, Amenadiel and Michael, maybe he hadn't been so off on his cult theory. "He wouldn't really. I don't think. Maze might though. No. Maze would. She could skin someone alive."

Chloe watched as he led a very confused Michael into the back before pulling out her phone and walking out of the club sending a text to Linda. She knew that she should go get Lucifer, or send him a prayer or tell him what was going on but she was panicking and needed to get herself under control before she spurred him into rash actions during the panic she knew was coming. She had just looked what could have been her death in the face and it was catching up with her. 

_ Call me. Now.  _ Before she could put it in her pocket, it was ringing.

"What's up?" Linda asked. "Is everything alright? I was worried when I hadn’t heard from either of you since what happened the other day. I know I upset Lucifer and I didn’t mean to do it. Is he okay?"

"I-I don- I don't know," Chloe managed, her voice shaking as badly as her hand. She had no idea what to do. She couldn't  _ not _ tell Lucifer but what if she told him and he shut down, or worse blew up. What if he went in half-cocked and got himself killed or banished again. It seemed like Michael couldn’t pinpoint his location so maybe they could just avoid him?

"I need you to focus, Chloe. Is anyone in imminent danger or is anyone hurt?" Linda asked, her tone somehow calming and urgent at the same time.

"Not yet but, Linda,  _ Michael's  _ here," Chloe said, hoping that she and Lucifer had talked about some of this in one of their sessions. She didn’t have it in her to explain the entire situation from scratch, not in the middle of a crisis. 

"As in  _ the  _ Michael? Saint Michael? The archangel who cast Lucifer out of heaven?  _ THAT _ Michael?" Linda asked, the slightly hysterical edge her voice took on reaffirming Chloe's belief that she wasn't blowing this out of proportion. As if she needed justification with Lucifer’s caginess since last night.

"That Michael," she agreed. "Who also happens to be Lucifer's near-identical twin." Linda whistled. 

"They didn't teach that in theology, did they?" She asked. 

"Wouldn't know," Chloe replied. "Lucifer told me that Michael looked like him but I didn’t realize he meant carbon copy.”

"You're ahead of me. I didn't know they are twins. So how do you know he's here? Did you see him?"

"I spoke to him," Chloe replied. "I thought he was Lucifer until I got a good look at him. He's at Lux."

"Does Lucifer know?" Linda asked, each word emphasized.

"I don't know," Chloe breathed. "I mean, he has been feeling like Michael was here but he almost has himself convinced that he's being paranoid. As far as I know he doesn't _know know._ I was on my way back to the penthouse after dropping off Trixie and thought he was on the dance floor, despite his plans to stay upstairs, so I went to join him, realized it was Michael, dumped him on Damien and called you. What do I do? I mean, I have to tell Lucifer. But he’s freaking out about the possibility of Michael seeing me or him. How do I tell him he was right?"

"You have to tell him," Linda said without pausing to think about it. "You know how important choice is to him. If you don't tell him, he  _ will _ see that as a betrayal."

"But what if I tell him and he comes unhinged and storms downstairs for a confrontation?" Chloe asked. "Lux is packed. If an archangel cage match goes down people  _ will _ get hurt."

"Tell Lucifer and keep them apart until Lux closes?" Linda suggested. Chloe shook her head even though she knew that Linda couldn’t see it.

"No. If I try that he’ll just stew and worry why Michael is here and not attacking him. That would be cruel," Chloe countered. "I could just get Lucifer to promise to take the fight to the desert. He could control that. And he wouldn't break a promise. Not to me."

"Whatever you're going to do, do it fast," Linda sighed. "I know that he’s mad at me but I still care about him. Tell him to call me if he needs me. This could be very traumatic." 

"Will do. Thanks, Linda, bye." Chloe hung up the phone and headed back into the club, the bouncer letting her through with a slight bow, the people in line cursing her. She ignored them, simply flashing her VIP black card to let Leroy off the hook. He smiled at her in thanks, she smiled back but could feel that it didn't reach her eyes. Her hand shook as she put her finger on the new reader, grinning sadly at Lucifer’s “pleasure” number taped to the elevator at eye level. That conversation felt like it had been ages ago as the elevator closed and began to rise. She felt like her stomach stayed on the ground floor as she ascended to the penthouse. The cheery ding felt like a betrayal as she stepped into the dim space, Lucifer's anxious voice greeting her with a, "Chloe, I was worried. That took longer than it should have to deposit the child. Nothing untoward happened, did it?" At her silence, he turned, his own expression falling as he decoded hers.

"Are you alright?" he asked, coming towards her and checking her for wounds as soon as he was within reach. She allowed it, if only to delay the inevitable for a moment longer. 

"I'm fine. I'm not hurt, but Lucifer, I ran into your brother on the way up," she began, feeling tears pool in her eyes.

"And what fun does Amenadiel want to ruin this time?" he asked, fond exasperation clear in his tone, even if it didn’t reach his eyes and she could tell he was intentionally procrastinating admitting who she’d seen. "We're breaking fewer rules than he and Mazikeen did. Not to mention he and Dr. Linda. Did you tell him to sod off?"

"Not Amenadiel," she said softly, watching as his eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed in obvious anger. "At first I thought he was you down in the club," she said, unable to say his twin brother's name. Lucifer shared no such reluctance breathing the name like a curse and a prayer at the same time. 

"You spoke to him?” he breathed in horror when she nodded, he closed his eyes, red seeping through his lids at whatever emotion he was hiding. He took a few deep breaths before he opened them again, the red gone and no emotion visible even to her.

“Clearly he didn’t attack you or take you hostage. Did he say what he wanted, then? Was it to draw me out?" he asked, his tone the forced neutral she had come to recognize as a mask. It was even clearer in the faint tremor of his hand as he picked up his drink, the ice clinking against the glass.

"He did say he was looking for you," she replied, feeling tightness in her throat. Placing her hand on his arm and feeling the fine twitches on the muscles under his dress shirt didn’t help. "He-he didn't say why. I gave him to Damien to babysit and told him I'd try to look for you. If you don't want to see him--"

"Bloody hell! Of course I don't want to see him," Lucifer exclaimed breaking free and pacing. "He can’t be here for anything  _ good.  _ Hell, Chloe, the last two times I saw him he shattered my wings and suspended me by them and left me there for _days_ to be gawked at. The next time he kicked me out of heaven with broken wings to Fall into Hell. I was terrified. Falling and falling and when I tried to catch myself the broken bones shattered again and the wings wouldn't slow me. But it was instinct to try and it kept happening. I’d thought that being suspended by broken wings was as bad as it could get but I was wrong.  _ That _ was agony." 

_ They've been through worse, _ he'd kept saying when she'd inquire about his comfort during their imprisonment and now that she knew, he was definitely not kidding. What Cain had done had been bad enough but how could his _brother_ have done that to him and then seek out his company like nothing happened? Lucifer was right. There was no way that Michael was here for anything good. 

"Do-do you want me to go get rid of him?" she offered. He looked like he was about to say yes when he shook his head with a laugh, stroking her cheek and looking at her like she was the most precious thing in the universe.

"You really have no sense of self-preservation, do you?" He asked a mix of fondness and horror in his tone. "He's an  _ archangel _ , Chloe. Do you have  _ any  _ idea what that means?"

"That he, like you, can't kill me," she said with a shrug and a glibness that she didn’t feel. Lucifer shook his head, framing her face in his long hands. 

"That doesn't mean that he can't hurt you," Lucifer reminded her.  _ Variables on that condition _ , wafted through both of their minds in Cain's voice.

“He can’t kill you by his own hand, but he can cause your death through other means. Archangels are the strongest of the angels and Micheal and I are the strongest of the archangels. The only thing in the universe more powerful than us is Dad or Mum," Lucifer said seriously. Chloe paused a moment to take in the fact that she regularly had sex with, antagonized and lectured one of the strongest beings in the universe before filling it away to examine later. There were more pressing issues at the moment than the power gradient between them. Namely, how his power compared to his twin brother's.

"If he’s here for a fight, is he more powerful than you?" She demanded, needing to know how this might play out. He seemed to think this was the end of the world, but she wasn’t sure he wasn’t just being pessimistic in light of all their recent misfortunes. Michael hadn’t seemed confrontational, more sad. But she didn’t know if he was just sad because he was here to start a fight he didn’t want or if there was another cause. 

"I don't know," Lucifer snapped, pacing and running his hands through his hair, dislodging product and mussing it. "I didn't want to fight him last time, not really. And my other siblings helped him restrain me so that he could … I struggled at that point, but it wasn't just us. But I've learned some new tricks since then. Perhaps he has too. A fight just between the two of us would likely last a  _ very _ long time and whoever got a lucky shot first would win. However, there is no guarantee that it would remain between the two of us. Such a battle  _ would _ draw celestial attention. If the others intervene I will lose. Probably even were I to call upon the forces of Hell and start an actual war."

"What would happen then?" she asked, dreading the answer. An all out war between Heaven and Hell didn’t sound good. It sounded downright apocalyptic if she was being honest. While she didn’t want him to lose, if he started a war everyone would lose. But maybe the fight would be on another plane of existence and leave Earth alone? Even she knew that was too optimistic. 

"I don't know," he said simply, his lip curing with distaste. "But it would probably not be good for anyone in the universe." She was silent, processing the possibility that this was all about to go to hell, maybe literally. 

"If Amenadiel took your side, if he helped …" she trailed off as Lucifer shook his head, his expression growing sad.

"This fight would be beyond him," Lucifer said. "He's not an archangel. He’s the first-born, fist of God but he is so outclassed here that he might as well be a fly."

"But you've fought him before and he … well you were pretty battered, Lucifer. It didn't look like you just dominated him," she said hopefully. 

"I didn't have my wings," he sighed. "They change the rules. Chloe, if it becomes a fight, it is very possible that I will never see you again. Just know that I love you. Oh, I wish I'd told you a million times in a million ways and a million places. I love you, Chloe with every fiber of my being. I love you."

"What if he's not here to fight?" she asked hopefully, the words wet with the grief she could already feel taking hold of her. He was saying 'I love you' but what he meant was 'good bye.' He'd been largely resistant to saying that he loved her that his desperation to do so now concerned her. She couldn't lose him. Not like this.

"I-I can go to him. Ask him what he wants?" she offered hesitantly, knowing that it wasn't really a possibility. "And if it's a fight tell him to go away. Fuck off even. He-he doesn't have to know you're here. He knew that you were close but he couldn’t find you and if he can't find you then--"

"No, Chloe," Lucifer breathed, coming back to her and pulling her against his chest, clinging to her like a lifeline. "Please don't antagonize him. I know I could potentially fix anything he broke if I am still around but I may not be. If he knows what you mean to me the feather in your pocket may not be enough. He may wait for you to use it and then torture you again. You may be human but you are my human. Father, Heaven, despite what happened in the bunker they still hate me. They want to see me suffer. I won't allow you to suffer. Not for me. Please,  _ please _ stay out of this. You cannot … there is  _ nothing  _ that you can do to protect me from this. And you cannot get involved. No good will come of it."

"He didn't seem like he would hurt me, Lucifer," she said, still trying to bargain with the Devil to keep him safe. "He almost seemed afraid of me. Of humans. I don't think he'll hurt me."

"I never thought he'd hurt me, either," Lucifer whispered before pushing away gently and looking down at her as if trying to commit her face to memory, unshed tears and determination in his warm brown eyes. "Where is he? I'll go see him but I don't… I won't ask you not to come but  _ please  _ do not interfere. No matter what happens. I need your promise on this, Chloe; that you will stay out of the conflict no matter what happens to me."

"I … I promise," she whispered, her chest tight with anxiety and tears choking her voice. "I won't interfere. I'll stay out of the way. I won't look for loopholes in our deal. And if a fight breaks out, I'll get down and stay there. No matter … no-no matter what. But Lucifer, try to avoid a fight. I don't want to lose you. I can't lose you." He smiled, brushing away a tear she hadn't realized had fallen but made no promises as he took her hand and let her to the elevator.


	16. Confrontation

The atmosphere of his club felt suffocating and claustrophobic as the elevator doors opened and he was bombarded with the cacophony of voices and music. What was usually a source of life and fulfillment felt like sandpaper on his nerves. It was like when he killed Uriel; his world was caving in around him and the more he scrambled to hold on the faster it fell and none of them knew or cared. Their enjoyment, something he usually loved to witness, felt like acid dumped in a wound. Their seeking of casual partners, fun but ultimately meaningless sex when he was about to lose everything felt like a vice was squeezing his chest. He wanted to curse them, scare them, run them out to spread his pain and make it less but he couldn't bring himself to do it. They were innocent in this. Ignorant of his suffering. And, perhaps when he was gone, their continued presence would make Chloe and Beatrice's lives easier. He did have a will, drafted while Chloe had been sleeping the night before and witnessed by two sober patrons. In the event of his disappearance all of it went to them with the exception of a small stipend for Maze.

But it didn't change the fact that there were too many stimuli assaulting his senses. For the first time in ages he hated his club. He hated his patrons. And he hated his brother for ruining this for him, his design and sanctuary. His brother had taken another home from him without ever laying a hand on him. The place he had designed to suit his whims and allow others to fulfill theirs, and it was ruined for him. And he mourned it's loss. Not for the first time, he was glad that his aura could be reversed and trigger the part of human brains that sensed danger. As the crowd parted like the Red Sea, he breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't sure that he could stand the press of bodies when his nerves felt so raw. 

"Where is he?" Lucifer asked, the words shorter than he meant for them to be with his anxiety over seeing his brother.

"Break room," Chloe replied, wrapping her arm around his waist and pressing her side against him. He placed his own around her shoulders, pulling her against him snugly enough he could feel her heartbeat against his chest, wishing they had more time. He knew it would never have been enough, no matter how long she lived, but he had selfishly hoped for more. Fighting the urge to grab her and run, he led her behind the bar and down the hall. When they reached the breakroom, his hand paused above the door knob.

“Stay behind me, Chloe,” he whispered. “And if there’s a fight …”

“I’ll get down and out of the way,” she repeated. “If that happens, can you try to get him out of town? The desert or the ocean? There’s too many people here. Someone will get hurt.” He smiled sadly. Always thinking of others, his detective. 

“I will try,” he promised, staring at the door knob with apprehension burning in his gut. He found that he couldn't quite bring himself to grab it and open the door to the beginning of the end. Chloe's hand came out and covered his, her blue eyes staring up at him in tearful support as their linked hands turned the knob. As they entered the room, he had a moment to study his brother, flipping through a magazine with a perplexed expression.

Michael looked just as he always had, not that Lucifer had expected him to be different. Long white robe, curly hair and a face identical to Lucifer’s own. That was why he didn’t allow his hair to curl if he could avoid it. While not quite as curly as Michael’s, seeing the curls in the mirror, even when he knew it was his own reflection was too painful. Taming them gave him one more difference from his twin brother. When they’d been young, only the eyes and their wings gave them away. As they’d grown older, Lucifer had worn gold to match Michael’s wings and Michael white to match Lucifer’s. They had been each other’s everything. Two parts of a whole. Until they weren't.

For a brief second, he felt his very being reach out. Despite all that had happened between them, Michael's betrayal and all the pain it had caused, Lucifer felt a sudden wash of profound longing and loss. He had  _ missed _ his brother, his twin, his other half. Seeing him again awoke that pain and emptiness he'd almost forgotten he felt, locked away to keep it from consuming him. He took a half-step forward, on instinct and then Michael looked up. Lucifer was shocked to see his hazel eyes, warm and wide. There was no animosity in their depths instead he seemed pleased and he was instantly distrustful of his brother's intentions. Michael would never be pleased to see him. 

"Samael," he said, rising to his feet and coming towards them, his arms outstretched. Before Lucifer thought about it, he had pushed Chloe behind him and his wings were out, shielding her from view. He didn't bother to stop the snarl that rose up his throat that his 'brother' would dare to address him or attempt to embrace him. Where did he think he had the right? To barge in here and demand to see him in his home and call him by the name that his family and his father had rejected when they allowed him to fall. Rather than fear, Lucifer felt more potent and useful emotions surge through his veins: righteous indignation and rage. 

"Do  _ not _ call me by that name," Lucifer snapped, feeling the power in the words burn his throat as the very air around him trembled. "That has not been my name since you  _ tortured _ me and threw me from the Silver City to fall and burn my way into Hell. That name burned with me. I am Lucifer and you  _ will _ refer to me by that name or you will not refer to me at all and I will see how well  _ you _ like being thrown from places."

_ Don't pick a fight,  _ Chloe's voice wafted across his mind desperate, her fear rising briefly within him before being engulfed in the torent that was his own emotions.  _ Please do not pick a fight. Please.  _ He made a conscious effort to relax and forced feathers he hadn't realized had raised in his anger to smooth. Yes, he was angry and he was right to be, but he wanted to stay with her more than he wanted to hurt his brother as he'd been hurt. Though, oh, was it tempting to punch him right in his shocked face. It was the same expression he knew he'd worn when Michael attacked him and it would serve the prick right.

"Amenadiel was correct," Michael said softly, his tone sad, his very being deflating. "He warned me that you are angry with me and would be unlikely to welcome my presence." Michael seemed to deflate further, curling in on himself, as Lucifer puffed up again.

"Of course I'm bloody well angry!" Lucifer thundered, the volume causing an ache in his vocal cords that he hadn’t felt in millenia. "What else did you expect? You … you … you  _ betrayed _ me, Michael. You  _ hurt _ me. Both my body and my soul. I could have understood Dad, the rest. But  _ you.  _ I thought that you would always support me. But you didn't. I loved you, trusted you and you betrayed me." Lucifer paused, swallowing down the tears that threatened to rise and trying to cling to righteous indignation. Tears were weakness and it wouldn't do to show weakness now. 

"You betrayed me," he repeated, sadness and resignation winning out over anger and indignation despite his efforts to cling to them. "And do you know what's worse? It's the knowledge that you, who knew me so well and knew my very soul, you  _ wanted _ me to suffer. When you beat me for demanding the right to choose my fate from our Father you weren't content with subduing me. No, you tried to inflict the most pain you knew how." 

Lucifer huffed out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head as his brother stared at him in mute horror. As if he hadn't known what he'd done. Maybe he hadn't. But it didn't change that he had done it. 

"Have you ever broken a wing bone, Michael?" Lucifer asked softly, locking eyes with his brother and trying to force the memories into his mind. Judging by the way his entire body flinched, curing in on itself, it was a goal accomplished. He was grudgingly impressed when Michael made no attempt to break the connection, his eyes boring into Lucifer's, accepting what he was sending.

"It is  _ agony _ ," he said, holding eye contact and forcing more memories along the bond watching as his twin's shoulders hitched as if trying to pull a wing away from the force breaking it, as his face contorted with second-hand pain. As his shoulders rolled in an attempt to relieve locked muscles that weren't his, but wouldn't have worked anyway. Lucifer's own bones ached in phantom pain as he relived the memories, but Michael seemed more distraught than he was so he continued.

"And it doesn't stop," Lucifer breathed, forcing memories of his being paraded into Michael's mind. "Fire and electricity coursing from the break with every movement. Every breath. It is mind-numbing pain. Even just one break."

He left the words hanging there a moment, the emotion in them breaking Chloe's heart as she remembered the way he'd screamed, his entire body contorting as she pulled a bullet from the bone in his wing. And that had only been a cracked bone, not a broken one. Not like what Michael had done. She couldn't even imagine. And he said he'd endured it in silence.

"How many times did you break the bones in my wings?" Lucifer asked softly, his voice betraying his hurt. Only then did Michael look away, shame overtaking his familiar features. But Lucifer was unmoved by his shame. Not when he was in the midst of remembering the agony he had caused. Mercy was not in his nature and especially not at this moment. Instead he twisted the knife.

"How many times did you twist them in your hands?" Lucifer demanded. "Feel them bend and give before they finally snapped under the strain. How many times? Did you even count? Do you even know?" Michael couldn't look at him, staring instead at his own hands as if remembering the sensations Lucifer was describing. 

"Twelve," Michael whispered, his voice breaking. "I broke them twelve times." Lucifer heard Chloe gasp but couldn't deal with her horror as well as his own. "Three times on each bone. Six times on each wing."

"Why?" Lucifer asked softly, tears coating the word. "Wouldn't once have done it? Even with one wing broken, I still wouldn't have been able to fly. I still would have fallen. Why did you have to  _ torture  _ me, Brother? And if that wasn't enough … Have you ever free-fallen, Michael? Flown up high and gone into a dive? Just closed your wings and felt the exhilaration of speed knowing that at any moment you can pull out of it? It was like that at first. Except when I wanted to pull out of it, I couldn't stop. My wings failed me, turning on themselves and grinding bone against broken bone. All I could do was fall. Terrified and in agony. Wondering if I would survive. Or if I even wanted to when I'd lost everything. _ You  _ did that to me. Dad may have sanctioned it but you did it." He let out a shuddering gasp, feeling Chloe's fingers thread into his feathers, seeking skin. He pressed back into her touch needing the comfort she offered.

"It broke my heart," Michael whispered, tears filling his own eyes. "To watch your pain, your panic. To know that I had caused it. But I could not help you. Oh Sam--Lucifer, I  _ wanted _ to help you. I tried to jump after you but I couldn't move. I had been  _ commanded _ to let you fall. And I couldn't disobey our Father. It ripped my soul to have to ignore your pleas for my help."

"Oh, and I'm sure it broke your heart to have our siblings  _ pin _ me while you broke my bones? To chain me up and hang me so that the shattered pieces couldn't mend? To  _ leave  _ me there where everyone could see and do  _ nothing _ to help me? I'm  _ sure _ that was very difficult for  _ you _ ," the last words were spat out, more venom than word as the resentment towards his twin that had been building for millennia spewed forth.

"It was," Michael replied, looking up at him tears staining his cheeks. "The sound and feeling of your bones breaking, your proud  _ stubbornness _ as you glared at me and said nothing. That's why I kept going, Sa--Lucifer. I knew that Father would demand an apology for your transgressions. I hoped… hoped that if I hurt you enough, caused you enough pain, that you would apologize and he would consider your punishment sufficient and welcome you back. I knew that I could heal any damage I caused, but what Father might do would be beyond me." Lucifer scoffed.

"So what you did was an act of kindness?" Lucifer demanded. "Remind me to lend you a dictionary to look up mercy." Michael heaved a sigh before his expression morphed, his jaw clinching before he spoke.

"Why did you not repent?" He demanded. "You were supposed to repent. Despite everything I subjected you to--"

" _ Because _ of that, Michael," Lucifer cut him off. "I resented you. All of you. You all claimed to love me but one step out of line and you were all too happy to try to break me and make a spectacle of me. Was it a game? Were there bets on how long it would take me to break? To beg?" 

He heaved a shuddering breath before he asked in a quieter voice, "why didn't you come, Michael? If you'd always intended to heal what you'd broken, why didn't you come when I begged for you to help me as I lay broken in Hell."

"I was forbidden," Michael answered moving forward slowly. "You were to be exiled, allowed no contact. I tried to tell you but you could not hear me. But I could hear you," Michael paused, a sob escaping him. "I could feel your fear, your agony. I could hear the desperation as you called for me. I begged Father to let me go to you but he refused. Instructed me to let you enjoy what choice had brought you. I pleaded with him and then I stopped hearing you."

"I thought you had died," Michael said, continuing his advance. "I thought that I had killed you. I begged Azrael to end my existence but she assured me that you still lived. I did not wish to live in a world without you in it, Brother." He shifted to the celestial tongue at the end to prove the veracity of his words as it was impossible to deceive in their native tongue.

"Then why didn't you ever come to me," Lucifer asked, feeling some of the tension drain from his shoulders at the Truth falling from his brother's lips. "You knew that I couldn't come to you, why didn't you come to me?"

"Father forbade it," Michael replied, maintaining his use of their native language having seen the effect it had on Lucifer's anger.

"Then why are you here?" Lucifer whispered, hope forming in his gut. He hated himself for the hope. That even after everything he had done to him, he still wanted Michael's presence. He missed him. And he hated himself for that. Maze was right. He was going soft. Five years ago he would have tried to smite Michael on sight, war be damned, now he was wanting him around? Hoping for a peaceful resolution? What if it was a trap? Even so, he couldn't stop his soft sob when Michael spoke next.

"Father lifted the ban," Michael said, closing the remaining distance and holding his hand just above Lucifer's cheek, knowing he could not initiate contact, he had relinquished that right with his betrayal. "He said you had finally learned humility and were welcome once more. I've missed you, S--Lucifer. Please, allow me to make this right. Would it help if I allowed you to break my wings and drop me? I will if you ask it. I will serve any penance you wish. If only you will allow my presence in your life." 

Michael rolled his shoulders calling forth his wings. They were just as beautiful as Lucifer remembered, each feather a golden buff with hints of red, shining like a star. Despite himself, Lucifer reached out one trembling hand and stroked the tiny feathers on the top on the inside, near his wing's humerus. He'd forgotten how soft they were. Michael closed his eyes in anticipation of pain and he could feel Chloe's tense body against his back, her pulse racing as she worried that he would break his brother as he'd been broken.

"I would never do that to you, Michael," Lucifer whispered, his voice earnest. "I would never subject another to what I endured. Especially not you. I hated you for it, Michael. I still don't trust you … but you have no idea how I've missed you. I find that … that even after everything you did to me, I love you still." Without warning, Lucifer was moving, wrapping his brother in a fierce hug. Michael's face registered shock for only a moment before he was returning the hug, his golden wings enveloping his brother, whose white ones folded to allow it, as his arms did the same. Tears fell from his eyes as he whispered apologies and words of love and thanks in their native tongue while Lucifer clung to him and wept.

Chloe stood back, as promised and watched as two of the universe's most powerful beings hugged it out and wept in the breakroom of an LA nightclub. She was fairly certain that it was something she wasn't meant to see but had no way of leaving without disrupting the moment. So she stayed and watched and wondered again just how the hell this had become her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what did you think? Was all the build up worth the payoff? And I'm still debating on it but I think I may end this installment of the series here. Thematically it ties well with the first piece and in the next few chapters the tone an focus shifts dramatically. I haven't decided yet. What do y'all think? Does this feel complete to anyone but me?


End file.
